


what you take with you

by irridesca



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Angst, Bendemption, Boss/Employee Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/M, Forgiveness, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Lawyer Ben Solo, Memory Loss, Physical Therapy, Redemption, Slow Burn, Traumatic Brain Injury, Trust Issues, mentions of pregnancy in the last chapter, regarding henry au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:33:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 60,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24887650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irridesca/pseuds/irridesca
Summary: When Rey's former boss, heartless defense attorney Kylo Ren, is shot in the head, she's asked to return to her position as his assistant to oversee his recovery. The only problem? When he wakes up two days later, he has no idea who Kylo Ren is.According to him, his name is Ben Solo.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 1086
Kudos: 2534





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HEY FAM. 
> 
> So, I watched Regarding Henry a couple of weekends ago (starring the beautiful Harrison Ford) and decided very early on that it had Reylo AU written all over it. 
> 
> For those that haven't seen it, you should definitely check it out. It's so cute and funny and Harrison is great in it. 
> 
> Thank you to my lovely betas, Heidi, Sam and Felicia! <3 Y'all are the real MVPs, always.
> 
> I really hope you all like this! Let me know what you think on [tumblr](http://earstwo.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/taylormaybe).
> 
> (also quick note - playing it a little loose with the law + medical lingo here, so please forgive any liberties I might've taken)

Rebecca Deveroux was wearing a brick red turtleneck that looked to be about two sizes too big for her small frame. The thick knit sleeves hung down just far enough past her hands that she’d balled up the material into her fists, using it to muffle her endless, painful-sounding sobs. She practically wailed in the middle of the courtroom beside her husband, Tim Deveroux, who maintained a hard, unflinching stare at Kylo Ren as he addressed the jury. 

It was a stare that would’ve probably made Kylo sweat if he were a lesser man— _definitely_ if he were a lesser attorney. 

But he was neither of those things, and he was about to win this case for Coruscant Memorial, a private medical giant that paid the firm obscene amounts of money to find any and all weaknesses in the Deveroux’s case; anything that would save them from a multi-million dollar payout and a massive smear on their reputation. 

Kylo didn’t even look at Tim as he spoke, holding each juror’s eyes for a few moments, hammering home his calculated, rehearsed points about medical responsibility and morality, citing with vehemence that _no_ doctor at Coruscant Memorial, especially a _resident_ , would ever neglect to care for a diabetic child in the midst of a hypoglycaemiac attack. 

“That,” he stated with unbreakable conviction, “just _isn’t_ something that happens.”

Simply put, it was actually Tim and Rebecca’s fault that they did not confirm with the doctors and the nurses that they were _fully_ aware of their daughter’s preexisting condition. 

It couldn’tbe the hospital’s fault that they didn’t disclose this loud and clear. These people were doing the best jobs they could’ve possibly done, and Tim and Rebecca set them up to fail, and therefore _they_ should be the people that are to blame for the neglect. 

After all, if they really cared about her, why did it take them so long to press the call button? Why did the shouting only start when little Annie was already five minutes into the seizure that would go on to take her life? 

The tears shone in each juror’s eyes as he went on, tossing out anecdotes about the doctors and nurses on duty that night, and how they’d not slept a wink and had been asked to take time away from the hospital to recuperate from the trauma. 

When one of the jurors—an older lady with bifocals and a worried mouth—hung her head to let out a sob, Kylo knew he’d hit a home run.

Now, he could take his slow, boastful victory lap around the field. 

He fought to hold back the tiny smile that threatened to spread onto his lips as he watched the woman sniffle, reaching into her purse to pull out a handkerchief.

Honestly, he surprised even himself sometimes. 

He was almost _too_ fucking brilliant at this job. 

An hour later, after a piss-poor excuse of a closing remark from the prosecution, the jury decided unanimously that the hospital was not at fault for Annie Deveroux’s death. 

The Deverouxs walked away with nothing.

Kylo walked away with the words _Senior Partner_ buzzing through his brain. 

The feeling of another flawless victory under his belt was unmatchable; it was better than sex, better than any drug he’d ever tried, and he’d tried them _all_. It was almost good enough to get Tim Deveroux’s eyes out of his head as he descended the steps of the courthouse, heading in the direction of a group of fellow Palpatine associates that were gathered near the valet stand. 

The devastated, angry eyes hovered in the forefront of his brain, taunting him, reminding him with every step he took that he was a monster. 

Irredeemable. 

Heartless. Soulless.

But, every single time, whether it was Tim's eyes or some other poor soul’s that had the misfortune of going up against him in the courtroom, Kylo found a way to bury it. 

This would be no exception. 

The haunted eyes would not haunt him forever, and whiskey, he found—good, expensive whiskey—helped with that problem _immensely_. 

* * *

Post-victory drinks at The Lion were a well-loved tradition at Palpatine & Associates, and Kylo was halfway through his third glass of Macallan 1926 when his phone started to buzz in his pocket.

His screen lit up with his assistant’s name, which his colleagues saw, and then all proceeded to hoot and holler like children around him, tossing around snide comments about Rey’s toned, petite figure and begging to know if he’d “managed to hit that” yet. 

He really should say something to her about her dress code. The way the other partners and associates talked about her when she wasn’t listening was starting to irritate him.

It’s not that he cared much about her dignity or anything; truly, he didn’t. Rey was a drop in the bucket as far as assistants went. Many had come before her, none lasting longer than six months, and there would undoubtedly be many more to follow. She was halfway through her fourth month; she was disorganized and ate enough for three at the company’s catered lunches, but she did somehow manage to keep him on track during his day-to-day. 

Calling at night was new, though, and Kylo wasn’t happy about it. The Lion was always a sure thing for him after winning a case, and she knew that he was in court today. 

And it’s not like she could blame it on not knowing if he lost or something. 

Kylo _never_ lost. 

“She knows we’re here,” Kylo huffed. “This better be good.” 

He set down his glass before leaving the crowded space to walk outside. It was a colder night than he expected, and he stuffed his free hand immediately into his pocket, his breath already fanning out in pale clouds. Kylo swiped to answer the call and pressed the phone to his ear. 

“What is it?” he asked impatiently. 

He could hear Rey scoff on the other end. “Hello to you, too.”

Kylo rolled his eyes. _Typical_. 

“ _What_. Is it?” 

It was quiet on the line for too long of a moment, and Kylo’s jaw began to clench in annoyance at her obvious lack of urgency. Times like this were when he wondered how she’d made it to four months without him throwing her ass to the curb. Any other postgrad off the street could manage a Google Calendar, and they would probably know better than to interrupt him during his celebratory drinks with the guys.

Plus, Rey was too emotional. He’d learned that early on, but figured it would be something she could keep a lid on if she wanted to keep her cushy, overpaying job that insured her and fed her free lunch every day. But instead, she wore her heart on her sleeve constantly; she couldn’t even look him in the eye most days after he brought home a big win for the firm. 

At first, it had irritated him. Her and her goddamn high horse. Who was she to judge?

Now, he didn’t mind so much. 

Truthfully, he kind of liked making her uncomfortable. It meant he was winning, and there was _nothing_ he liked more than winning.

When Rey finally responded, her tone was clipped. She was seemingly just as fed up with him as he was of her. “Your mother called,” she said evenly. “Again.” 

Kylo scoffed. “And?” 

Rey chuckled mirthlessly. “It’s ten-thirty at night, Mr. Ren.” 

He sighed, growing even further impatient. “Do you have any intention of making a point in the next minute, or should I just hang up now?” 

“Usually people don’t call at ten-thirty at night unless something’s wrong. Your mother certainly never does.” 

His hands balled up into fists and he breathed deeply through his nose, willing himself not to annihilate her over the phone and relish in terminating her position right then and there. 

He could do it just for this, too. No one at the firm would bat an eye if she was gone tomorrow. 

“I believe I told you when you started this position that I will not speak to my mother under any circumstances,” Kylo said pointedly, and Rey started to say something, but he cut her off abruptly, continuing down his path with no end in sight. “And _yet_ , you still choose to remind me on a daily basis when she calls. I don’t know why I let you get away with this disrespectful, almost insubordinate act so frequently, but this—” he sneered, “you interrupting me at The Lion to tell me that she called because you’re _worried_ about how late it is? This is ridiculous, Rey. Even for you.”

It was quiet again, and the silence felt like fuel. Red was all he could see suddenly, and he easily allowed the rage to consume him so he didn’t have room in his brain to think about the implications of a late night call from his estranged mother. 

“I mean, truly, are you that dense?” Kylo growled, pushing the last tattered shreds of his sentimentality far out of reach. “Didn’t your parents ever teach you to listen? How about respect? Did they teach you that?”

It was Rey’s turn to growl, then. 

“My parents are dead, you evil _fuck_. So, no. They didn’t get to teach me anything.” 

“Lucky them,” he bit out. It fell from his lips without a second thought, like a terrible, disgusting reflex. Kylo heard Rey inhale sharply on the other end. 

_Good_ , he thought. Maybe now she’d think twice before she talked back to him. 

“Goodnight, Mr. Ren,” she said then, all the previous vitriol in her voice gone. 

She just sounded tired.

Kylo shook his head and ended the call without another word. 

He would not let her make him feel guilty. He didn’t let _anyone_ make him feel guilty.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Everyone looked a little worse for wear the next morning. 

Kylo was thanking the heavens above for the spare pack of BC Powder he found in his coat pocket as he approached the frosted glass doors. Palpatine & Associates was located on the top floor of the largest skyscraper in downtown Coruscant, and his corner office had a to-die-for view of the entire cityscape. Thankfully, he also had remote controllable blackout shutters that he could activate as soon as he set foot inside. 

He received a few pats on the back and congratulations as he neared his office, stopping to shake a few hands while trying to ignore the incessant pounding on the left side of his skull. 

Rey was already at her desk, and her eyebrows were knit together as she held her desk phone to her ear, nodding slowly. 

She noticed him soon after, but didn’t react. Rey simply looked away from him and seemed to focus fully back on whomever was on the other end of the call. 

“I understand completely. Truly, I do,” she said softly, her accent dulling the edges of the words. “I wish that there was something I could do to help.” 

He’d fully intended to walk right past her and into the solace of his office, but her last words caught his attention. Only people that wanted to get in touch with _him_ called the line she was on. 

Who exactly was she denying? 

Kylo stopped in front of her desk, his hands planted firmly in his pockets. 

Rey still didn’t look at him. 

Fucking _classic_.

“No, Mr. Deveroux,” she said as she shook her head, turning her face even further away from Kylo as his eyes widened, his heart starting to pound almost as roughly as his head. 

He could see Rey’s eyes slowly close. “Please understand that it wasn’t personal.” 

At that, he huffed, reaching forward immediately to grab the receiver from her hand and slam it down into the dock. It made a loud crack as he did so, nearly shattering the hard plastic.

Finally, _finally,_ she blinked up at him, mouth hanging open.

“Are you serious right now?” he asked her, nostrils flaring and voice dangerously low.

For a moment, Rey just stared at him. It felt like a challenge. 

It was too goddamn early for her antics, and his headache was only getting worse. 

He couldn’t be blamed for what he did next. 

When his fist came down onto her desk, it made a loud enough bang that not only Rey jumped, but a few others around her did, too. Hux’s equally-mouthy assistant, Rose, stared at him with wide, frightened eyes. Kylo ignored them all, keeping his eyes directly on Rey’s. 

“Do you have any idea the damage you could cause by talking to anyone involved in the case after it's closed?” he asked her, giving her no time to respond before launching back in. “Do you even _care_ that you could ruin all the work I’ve done with _one_ goddamn slip of your ever-yapping _mouth?_ ” 

The last word was bit out with a snarl, dripping with venom. He could see the tears welling up in Rey’s eyes, but it didn’t matter. He was too far gone to stop.

“If you can’t learn how to respect me and the work that I do, I’ll have you removed from this position. And good luck finding any work in the city after that. You know how much reach I have.” 

He once again did not let her respond, truly uncaring of anything she could possibly muster, and instead walked directly into his office, slamming the door behind him. 

  
  


* * *

The room was pitch black and Kylo was dead asleep when Rey’s voice sounded over the intercom. 

“Mr. Ren?” she asked, completely professional, as if he hadn’t reamed her in front of the entire office less than an hour ago. 

Kylo slammed his fingers onto the button that would allow him to talk back to her. 

“What?” he spit out, barely managing to lift his head off of his arms. 

“Mr. Snoke is here and would like to chat. If you’re free, of course.” 

The twinge of sarcasm in her last statement was subtle, but not lost on him. He rolled his eyes. 

After a few seconds of needed silence on his end, he cleared his throat, reaching under his desk to activate the shutters and send them rolling quietly back into the ceiling, allowing the bright light of midday to leak into his office.

When he finally sat all the way up, he noticed that he’d left a particularly large puddle of drool behind him. Hastily, he reached into a drawer to grab a napkin, sopping up the mess as he leaned forward and hit the intercom button again. 

“Of course. Send him in.” 

Within seconds, his mentor was bursting into his office, a large, face-splitting grin on his mouth that somehow managed to not reach his eyes.

“Ren, my boy,” Snoke greeted, walking up to the two high-back chairs that sat in front of Kylo’s desk. He took a seat in one of them, crossing his ankle over his knee, showing off the red sole of his shoes. “You look like you’ve seen better mornings.”

“Says the man that wouldn’t let my glass go empty last night.”

Snoke’s grin turned instantly into something more sinister, this time reaching his eyes as he lifted a brow. His elbows rested on the armrest and his fingers interlaced together, and he stared relentlessly at Kylo, just as he always did. 

They’d known each other for years. It was Snoke that got him the job at Palpatine & Associates in the first place, Snoke who told him that he needed to unlearn everything he thought he knew from law school, Snoke who stood by him through his first multi-million dollar win. 

And now, as they sat across from each other in Kylo’s office, which occupied the corner opposite to his mentor, they stared each other down, the tension hanging between them like a bright, blinking neon sign. Kylo refrained from letting his emotions leak into his expression; Snoke was like a bloodhound for them—one tiny sign of weakness and he’d attack. 

Things had been like this since Enric Pryde announced his retirement during September’s staff meeting. He was one of four senior partners, and Kylo and Snoke both had their sights set on replacing him. Kylo, whose track record for victories was starting to rival Snoke’s, and who had the obvious advantage of youth, was the surefire candidate.

But Snoke wouldn’t go down easily. Kylo knew that in his bones. 

“You ought to be careful with those disgruntled bloodsuckers, Ren,” Snoke began, his tone even as he maintained eye contact. His stare was deep but unsettling; there was no warmth in it. “I heard you berated your assistant for talking to one of them.” 

“They don’t often make a habit of calling the firm after they’ve been beaten so thoroughly,” Kylo remarked, breaking away from Snoke’s cold, green eyes and staring down at his hands. 

“You’d be surprised what people are capable of when they feel like they have nothing to lose.” 

Kylo looked up at that. Snoke’s face remained impassive, but Kylo understood all too well what he was insinuating. Despite the countless days and long, arduous nights they’d spent together on cases, and the genuine thanks Kylo had paid him on multiple occasions for taking him under his wing, he knew that when it came down to it, Snoke would do anything it took to beat him.

But he’d made the mistake of hammering that mentality into Kylo, too. 

“Is there something you needed?” 

“I can’t stop by to check in on you anymore? Are we no longer friends?” 

The smirk on the old man’s face was unnerving. Of course they weren’t friends. It had taken him far too long to realize that they’d never been _friends_. Kylo was a means to an end for Snoke, and now, he was merely a speed bump on his way to the top. 

“Of course we are,” Kylo replied effortlessly. 

Snoke eyed him. “Good.” 

A quick glance to the clock on his desk revealed that it was nearly twelve, and it dawned on him that he hadn’t eaten anything all day. He brushed the front of his jacket before turning back to Snoke and lifting his brows. 

“Lunch?” he asked, nodding toward the large cafeteria on the other side of the floor. 

Snoke nodded. “Love to.” 

Kylo stood, rounding his desk, and stopped in front of Snoke as he buttoned up his jacket.

“You look like shit,” Snoke remarked, giving Kylo a once over. 

He opened his mouth to defend himself, but was given no chance as Snoke turned on his heel, leaving Kylo in the dust as he walked out of his office. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


The city was dark and quiet when he finally wrapped things up that night. 

By the time Kylo finally emerged from behind his desk, all the lights on the entire floor were off, only slowly flickering back on when the motion detectors sensed him. 

Rey usually packed up around five and popped her head in to say goodbye to him, which he often did not notice because he was too focused, but he did _definitely_ notice that she hadn’t said anything to him earlier that day. 

And when he looked over to her newly illuminated desk and saw that all of her personal belongings were gone, it was a shock almost heavy enough to create a pit in his stomach. 

_Almost_. 

There was a little sticky note in the middle of one of the sleeping monitors that sat atop her desk, and he leaned forward to yank it off. It was bright, neon pink, and her handwriting was messy, as it always had been. In all caps, barely legible, she’d written: 

_DO EVERYONE HERE A FAVOR AND GO FUCK YOURSELF._

_I QUIT._

_-R_

The sticky part of the note clung to his fingers as he stared at the words. He hadn’t expected it, but he also wasn’t surprised. He’d made quite a show for the whole firm that morning. Between that and telling her ruthlessly that her parents were lucky to be dead if it meant they didn’t have to deal with her, well, it wasn’t much of a shock that she was gone. 

Kylo sighed, already annoyed with the idea of having to start the process of finding Rey’s replacement. He decided rather quickly as he stuck the note in his pocket that it was a problem for tomorrow. He’d get Rose to get a list of candidates together in the morning and he’d have someone at Rey’s desk by the end of the week. 

No skin off his back. 

Normally, when he worked this late, he’d arrange for a car to pick him up, but he felt like a walk might do him some good. There were two overly nagging voices in his head that sounded suspiciously like Rey and Tim Deveroux, both taking turns calling him names like _monster_ and _bastard_ , and he figured that a little exercise might help to snuff them out. 

The brisk air hit his face and felt like salvation. He sucked in a few long, deep breaths before starting in the direction of his apartment, which was a little over ten blocks away, mostly uphill. 

He hadn’t gotten five steps from his building before he felt a presence at his back.

Kylo’s shoulders went tense, and he did what he could to straighten himself, hoping his stature alone would be enough to scare away any potential trouble. 

“Don’t move,” a male voice ordered, deep and gruff. He didn’t recognize it. 

Kylo’s hands went up instinctively. He thought idly of the fifty-thousand dollar watch that was visible on his wrist, wondering if he was about to lose it. 

“I don’t have any cash,” he said quietly before he felt something that was unmistakably cold and hard rub up against the back of his head. 

It felt like metal, like the barrel of a pistol. Kylo’s heart hammered wildly in his chest.

He was about to die. 

“Please, I can get you anything you want. No amount is too much, I assure you.” 

Behind him, the laugh that sounded was enough to send a chill through Kylo’s spine. 

“I don’t want your money.” 

“What do you want, then?” 

The gun pressed further into his head and Kylo’s eyes squeezed shut. The breaths that escaped his nose were shaky, and he felt like he might drop to his knees. 

“Say goodnight, Kylo Ren.” 

Kylo inhaled sharpy, contemplating for a moment how the man could possibly know his name. 

And then everything went black. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, holy shit. the response to the first chapter was insane! thank you so much to everyone that commented/retweeted/left kudos/etc. i haven't replied to many comments on any of my fics up to this point, but please know that i see all of them and i basically cry with happiness any time anyone leaves one. 
> 
> obviously, the feedback is extremely motivating, because i couldn't stop myself from writing this chapter last night. i'm already in love with this story and this reylo - so i'm very excited that y'all are on board! 
> 
> thank you as alwaaaaaaays to my beta squad: heidi, sam & felicia!
> 
> come talk to me on [tumblr](http://earstwo.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/taylormaybe) please!!
> 
> *** **note again** : playing it fast and loose with medical terminology/law stuff. feel free to provide feedback if you see something weird, i always value that and will fix any mistakes!

The tequila tasted like liberation. 

It tasted like a freedom that Rey should have awarded herself months ago, upon first realizing how much of an absolute knobhead Kylo Ren actually was. 

Finn and Rose sat on opposite sides of her at the bar, ignoring how their elbows were sticking to the shined oak and how the whole place smelled faintly of half-rotten strawberries. 

It wasn’t The Lion, that was for sure. And thank God for that, because Rey didn’t want there to be even a _slight_ chance that she would run into her now former boss. 

So, naturally, she’d chosen Wheelhouse—the diviest, dirtiest bar in downtown Coruscant, wherein her loyal companions had both agreed to join her. 

“You three want another?” a burly bartender asked, and Finn blurted an affirmative so quickly that the man barely had a chance to finish the question. 

Her best friend of more than a decade gestured to her with his thumb. “This girl just quit a job that was making her absolutely miserable. You can keep them coming.” 

The bartender nodded and went about laying down three more shot glasses in front of them. Within a few minutes, Rey had salt on the back of one hand and a quarter of a lime in another. Rose cleared her throat, sticking her small glass out to toast. 

“To telling assholes to go fuck themselves over post-it notes,” she stated, a large, shit-eating grin on her face. 

Rey sniffed, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. 

So she’d been a little _bold_ upon her exit. That fucking tosser deserved it. 

Really, he deserved a swift kick in the nuts, but she didn’t want to deal with assault charges. And knowing what she knew of Kylo Ren, he’d _definitely_ press charges. 

“To leaving assholes in the dust,” Finn chimed in. 

Rey glanced back and forth between the both of them, overwhelmed with the relief of knowing she didn’t have to go to Palpatine & Associates the next morning, and with the gratitude she felt for the two humans at her side. 

She was quite a lucky bird. 

After a firm nod in agreement from her, they clinked their glasses together gently, tapped the bottoms against the bartop and then tossed the liquor back. 

It went down even easier than the first one. 

Rose winced as she slammed her empty shot glass down, a hiss sounding from her teeth. After a deep inhale, she swiveled her tiny body to fully face Rey.

“I seriously cannot believe he yelled at you like that. In front of everyone.” 

Behind her, Finn scoffed.

“And that shit he said about your parents. Are you sure you don’t want to tell me where he lives, Rey-Rey? I know a lot of shady people in this town.” 

Rey’s hint of a smirk shifted into a grin as she leaned back, able to see both of her friends. She lifted her arms and folded them behind her head and let out a long, whimsical sigh. 

“Honestly, guys, I’m fine,” Rey breathed out. “Really.” 

Neither looked particularly convinced. 

“I mean it!” Rey held out her hands. “Look, Kylo Ren is an absolute prick. No one is disputing that. But it’s done. It’s over. I can proudly say that I no longer work for the man who may or may not be the antichrist.” 

Rose snorted. “You’re stronger than both of us, babe. I’d at least slit the tires on that ostentatious as _hell_ Maserati he drives around.” 

“I just…” Rey trailed off, signaling with two fingers for the bartender to come back around. “I want to be done. I want to sit at this bar with my friends and have another tequila shot, and I want to forget that he ever existed.” 

At that, they both nodded resolutely. 

“You got it, sis,” Finn stated, turning back to face the bar. 

Without being asked, the bartender dutifully lined up three more shot glasses. 

Things were just starting to get pleasantly blurry when Finn looked over at her and slapped the bartop with his hands. 

“Time to switch to Dos Equis?”

A little burp sounded in Rey’s throat before she smiled giddily and nodded. 

After the fully dressed glasses of beer were set before them, the three half-drunk friends were just about to start their fourth cheers of the night when Rey’s phone started to vibrate. It was face up on the counter, and they all stared with wide eyes at the name displayed across the screen. 

_SHEEV PALPATINE_

“That’s...unsettling,” Rose murmured next to her. 

For a long moment, Rey seriously contemplated letting him go to voicemail. She didn’t owe Palpatine shit, even _if_ she’d quit without a two week notice and told off one of his most successful associates via post-it while doing so. 

But the rationale of collecting her last check and perhaps knowing when her benefits would run their course was enough to make her reach forward and answer the call.

It didn’t occur to her until she’d already put the phone to her ear and muttered a nervous greeting that generally speaking, the CEO was not the person that would call to discuss the logistics of an employee’s self-termination. 

“Miss Niima,” the voice was high-pitched, almost cracky.

“That’s me.” 

“The same Rey Niima that was Kylo Ren’s assistant until five hours ago?” 

Rey blinked a few times, ignoring the curious faces of Rose and Finn in her peripheral. 

“The very same.”

A shaky sigh sounded on the other end. “Very well. Miss Niima, this is Sheev Palpatine, of Palpatine & Associates. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of each other’s company before, but in any case, it is lovely to meet you, even if over the phone.” 

This fucking guy. Rey brought the crusty CEO of the firm coffee on multiple occasions during the past four months—enough times that she knew he preferred that disgustingly sweet white mocha concoction from Starbucks with three shots of espresso. 

“Sure, yes,” Rey said with a sigh, not deeming the correction worth it. “Nice to meet you.” 

“I wish it were under more pleasant circumstances, but I’ve called you this evening to ask a dreadfully large favor of you, dear.” 

Rey sat up a little. Whatever he was about to say, she was preparing herself to not be seduced. The man had a reputation in Coruscant and she would not fall victim to his charms. Not for one second. 

“What might that be?”

“Something quite awful has happened tonight, I’m afraid. Mr. Ren was attacked outside of the office on his way home. He’s in critical condition at Coruscant Memorial as we speak.” 

Despite herself, Rey’s heart clenched slightly in her chest. Her brow furrowed as she leaned forward, folding her free arm over the bartop so she could lean into it. 

“Attacked? How—what happened? What did they do to him?” 

“Someone shot our poor boy in the head.” 

Rey yelped in surprise, her arm flailing out of its own accord and knocking her beer down in its wake. The glass collided with the counter and the liquid began to spill off the edges, causing all three of them to stand immediately as Finn and Rose reached for napkins to sop it up. 

She plugged her finger over the mouthpiece and looked between the two of them. 

“Um—Kylo was shot. In the head. I’ll uh—I’ll be right back,” Rey told them quietly, not spending time to take in the look of shock on both of their faces before she ran for the exit. 

“Sorry. I needed some quiet,” she huffed once she finally made it outside. “Why exactly are you telling me all of this?” 

Palpatine’s breaths were even but audible. Eventually, he sighed a bit more dramatically, and said: “Well, that’s just it, Miss Niima. It’s going to be quite the road to recovery for him, according to the doctors. They don’t know even when he’ll wake up again. I was hoping that you’d reconsider your exit and perhaps come back to us for a time. To oversee things, of course.” 

Rey bit her lip. “Oversee?”

“According to Ren, you were the best assistant he’d had yet. Said you ate like you’d never had a full meal in your life, but that you kept him on his toes. We’d like you to reconsider staying by his side for a few more months.” 

“Oh—I don’t—I can’t do that—he—” Rey stammered, panic rising quickly in her chest.

“There would be a hefty increase in your salary should you agree, of course.” 

The night air was biting. Rey’s jacket was inside, sitting on the back of the barstool, and the pocket her free hand was shoved into did little to fight the cold. She was shaking, unaware of what to make of his question, of the situation, of the thought of Kylo laying in the ICU with a bullet wound in his head. 

The guy wasn’t nice. There wasn’t a nice bone in his body, to be sure, but he didn’t deserve _that_. No one did. 

Rey’s inbox full of tuition installment reminders was flashing in front of her eyes, all red letters and exclamation marks, warning against classes being dropped if she didn’t cough up the cash. Between the obscene amount that it cost to go to grad school at the University of Coruscant and the fact that the apartment she shared with Finn was _not_ rent controlled and located in a quickly gentrifying neighborhood, her pockets were hurting. 

It had been extremely unlike her to do something as ballsy as walking away from the paycheck that barely got her by as is, but she didn’t _want_ to go back. She truly didn’t. 

But the logical part of her brain was screaming that maybe...just _maybe_ it would be enough to collect a bit to stow away while Kylo recovered. Keeping track of his books and checking in on his clients, all while he stayed far away from the office, tucked away in bed. 

And that thought—that nagging picture in her head of him standing in front of the large glass doors of their building with a gun to his head—it was lodged in her consciousness like a dry lump in her throat. 

And so, she sighed, and prodded: “Hefty, huh?” 

“Double,” Palpatine responded without hesitation, like he’d been waiting for her to ask.

“You want to pay me a hundred grand to babysit your comatose attorney?”

“Sounds easy enough, doesn’t it? And we’ll take care of your tuition as well, Miss Niima. Think of it as a thank you for giving us a second chance.” 

“You—you’ll _what_?” 

“Yes, well, Ren mentioned that you’re in graduate school at the University of Coruscant. That’s my alma-mater too, you know. I’d be happy to take care of the rest of the cost for you to attend, on top of your raise.” 

“But why?” Rey breathed, utterly confused. “Why me?” 

A moment of tense silence hung between them, and then Palpatine’s slightly-shrill, unpleasant voice sounded in her ear once more. 

“Dear Rey,” he cooed. “Haven’t you ever heard the expression ‘ _don’t look a gift horse in the mouth’?”_

  
  


* * *

  
  


Rey did what she could for the next three days to let Kylo’s clients know that he’d be unreachable for at least the next few weeks, but that she was actively working on getting his cases reassigned to other attorneys at the firm. 

They were unhappy, especially considering Rey wasn’t allowed to disclose the reason for Kylo’s absence, but thankfully, she’d developed quite a knack for placation in her months of working for him. She was supremely skilled at cleaning up his messes, and she was able to talk them all down within her eight-hour shift. 

At 4:56 p.m., Palpatine appeared at her desk. He looked paler than usual, and he stood over her like a looming, cracking moon. 

“He’s awake,” he uttered, before spinning slowly on his heel and heading back in the direction of his office. 

Rose watched him leave and then looked back to Rey, a slight grimace on her lips. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

As much as she wished that she didn’t, Rey knew exactly what that meant. 

Although she was back at her desk, with a cushy new salary and a paid-in-full tuition check already in the mail, she hadn’t gone down without at least a _little_ fight. 

Her one and only term had been simple. 

“I would like for him to speak to me with respect. Like I’m a human being.” 

A dark, mirthless chuckle had sounded at her request. 

“I don’t believe that will be an issue, Miss Niima,” he’d remarked. 

  
“Why’s that?” 

“According to the doctors, he may not be speaking for a while _at all._ He’s lucky to be alive. The bullet was mere centimeters from killing him, but they think he must’ve turned his head at the last minute. He won’t be fully back to himself for a while, it appears, and we’d like you to help him through that transition. A piece of his old life that he can hold onto.” 

She’d sighed, slightly panicked and overwhelmed at the new information. 

“Isn’t there someone else that would be better suited for this? Someone that actually _knows_ him and can help him, I don’t know, learn to _be_ again?” 

Palpatine cleared his throat. “I’m afraid there is no one else, Miss Niima. You were his one and only emergency contact.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Coruscant Memorial’s automatic sliding doors welcomed Rey inside as the grapefruit-colored sun behind her began to set.

The crinkly, slightly damp note in her palm had the room number on it, and she was making her way there none-too-quickly, breathing through her mouth as much as she could to avoid the smell of death and antiseptic. 

Palpatine had let her know before she left that Rey had also been approved for visitation in the hospital despite not being family, and the nurses that weren’t focused on other tasks nodded in her direction as she passed the station. 

Kylo’s room was just off to the left of it, and the door was already open when she approached.

The curtains were open, allowing the orange and pink-tinged light to spread warmly throughout the room. Rey took it in, along with a deep, steadying breath, and rounded the corner. 

His room was completely private, unsurprisingly. 

When he finally came into view, she couldn’t hold back the tiny, sharp inhale that fell from her lips. He turned to look at her immediately, and Rey was frozen where she stood. 

The first thing she noticed was his eyes. They were as dark as ever, but softer than she’d ever known them to be. They stared straight at her, relentlessly. 

There was a bandage wrapped tightly around his head, and his hair was poking out the other end of it, just barely grazing his neck. He had a large, purple-green bruise that decorated his left cheek, which she assumed had hit the concrete after he’d been shot. 

He looked...helpless. Hurt. Alone.

Rey gathered herself after a moment and rushed to take off her coat and bag. After she put the items aside on one of the many chairs in the room, she stood, slowly moving toward his bed as she folded her arms over her chest. 

“So,” she said quietly. 

Kylo just kept looking at her, his expression shifting into something that looked like confusion.

“About that note…” 

When he didn’t respond or react at all, Rey launched into her semi-rehearsed speech, knowing that if she didn’t say it right now, she’d lose all her nerve. 

“I’m sorry, Kylo. Really. It was unprofessional and rude. And even though you are a complete tosser most of the time and _definitely_ deserved me leaving you high and dry, you definitely didn’t deserve… this,” Rey said, gesturing with her hand toward his wrapped wound. 

“I’m sorry that this happened,” she said sincerely. “I’m sorry that someone did this to you.” 

They held each other’s gaze for a long moment, and Rey watched Kylo’s lips form into a tight line. 

“Anyway, they asked me to come back and help out. Keep your clients happy and your chaos organized while you recover. Your boss offered to pay me boatloads to do it, actually, and I figured a few more months with Kylo Ren was worth a full two years of tuition.” 

At that, his eyes narrowed, and his brows knit together tightly. 

Rey blew out a breath before continuing, not quite sure what to make of his response. 

“So, whatever you need—I guess I’m here for you. I’ll probably be a shite caretaker, but I’ll be happy to sneak you in some McDonald’s if you like.” 

When his lips started to move, Rey moved a little closer, almost on instinct. 

He was trying to say something, struggling immensely, in fact. 

“Wh—wh—” he wheezed, and Rey moved further in, nearly at his bedside now. 

“Who…” he continued, taking a deep breath after getting the word out. 

“It’s okay, Kylo,” Rey said softly, taking a slow, tentative seat in the chair by his bed. “Take your time.” 

Kylo stared at her for a few moments before taking in a long breath through his nostrils. She heard him clear his throat and watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed a few times. 

And then, still looking right at her, he asked: “Who are you?” 

Rey didn’t have a chance to answer him, didn’t even have a chance to _breathe_ before he’d opened his mouth to form another shaky question.

With his expression dazed and awash with confusion, he breathed out, and then spoke again.

“Who is Kylo?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just fyi Palpatine is not Rey's grandfather in this story bc TROS Rey does not exist to me


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy! The response to this story is still blowing my mind. I'm so glad you all like it. I hope you're staying safe, healthy and sane in the midst of all the craziness. 💞
> 
> Beta power team: I love you all immensely. Thank you for constantly taking time out of your lives to help me with these stories. I'd be a super hot mess without you guys.

Over the course of the next forty-five minutes, Rey learned a couple of important things.

First, Kylo Ren was not her boss’s real name. His name was Benjamin Organa Solo, and she’d discovered this after asking him what _he_ thought his name was, only for him to slowly and painfully spit out the word _Ben_. The rest was a matter of public record, easily traceable once she incorporated his mother’s surname into the mix. 

Second, not only did he not remember the name—Ben had absolutely no recollection of his life as Kylo Ren. He didn’t know what Palpatine & Associates was. He didn’t recognize any of the names of his clients as she rattled them off, earning only a blank, confused stare. It was a gaping hole in his memory, like his journey to becoming the infamous man she knew had been snipped out. Redacted completely. 

“There’s so much we don’t know about the human brain,” Ben’s doctor, Gwen Phasma, told her as they stood outside of the hospital room, Rey’s arms folded tightly over her chest. She’d called for someone immediately after he’d questioned who she—and _he_ was, panicking slightly at the discovery that he was obviously experiencing severe memory loss. 

No one had said _anything_ to her about freaking amnesia. 

Rey looked at the doctor in disbelief, her arms swinging up at her sides. “So, what, then? We just...wait and see what happens?” 

The broad-shouldered woman that towered over her—well over six feet—gave Rey a measly attempt at a reassuring smile. 

“I’m afraid so. He’s made great progress even in the few days he’s been here, though,” Phasma remarked. “Don’t lose hope yet. Seems like you’ve got quite a fighter.” 

Rey resisted the urge to roll her eyes. 

She’d been bamboozled. Swindled. Played like a goddamn fiddle. There was no doubt in her mind that Palpatine had at least some idea of Ben’s condition, and had roped her in under the false pretense of _a familiar face_ to help him transition back to his life. 

This was astronomically more complicated than that. 

She didn’t even know who this man was. She’d quite literally never _met_ him.

When their conversation finished, leaving Rey exasperated and stressed, she walked over to the coffee-vending-machine-looking structure near the waiting room and slid her card through the slot. Without really thinking, she ordered a vanilla latte and a large black coffee. When she brought it back into the room and handed the coffee to him, she was surprised to see him take a big gulp of it, not even bothering to check what it was. 

The reaction was immediate. Ben’s tongue fell out his mouth, and he raised up a hand to fan it, undoubtedly experiencing the painful burn of a too-hot liquid sliding down his throat, and he was looking at her like she’d just kicked his puppy. 

Rey’s eyes went wide. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she said as she reached forward to grab the pitcher of water by his bedside. She poured him a large cup and handed it to him, watching his eyes narrow at her in suspicion as he continued to breathe heavily through his open mouth. 

“It’s just water. I promise. It’ll help with the burning,” Rey told him, and he slowly raised the cup to his mouth, taking a tentative sip. Ben closed his eyes and started to gulp it down then, slamming the empty thing back onto the bedside tray when he finished. He stared at her, the look on his face somewhere between angry and confused. 

“I’m sorry. You love—” Rey stopped herself, looking down at her latte and wishing she could dive into it, or really just be anywhere but here. She picked up her chin after a few seconds and cleared her throat. “You used to love black coffee. I get a large one for you every morning from the deli near the office because you refuse to drink the stuff from the machine in the dining hall.” 

Ben looked like he was considering her words, though the deep wrinkle in his brow told her that he didn’t have the slightest idea of what she was talking about. 

“Right,” Rey breathed, mostly to herself. 

She tapped her fingers against the cup in her hand as she moved forward to sit in the chair near his bed. It was uncomfortable, the wafer-thin cushion the only thing between her bum and all its hard edges and angles. She placed her drink between her knees and then looked up at him, finding him still looking at her. 

“So,” she said, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “How—how old are you?” 

Ben tilted his head a little. He started to look around the room as if the answer existed somewhere within the four walls. 

Rey watched him open his mouth to speak, only to shut it again seconds later. He took a deep, unsteady breath, and tried again. 

“Tw—” Ben attempted, barely audible. Rey’s eyebrows shot up. 

Kylo Ren was thirty-six years old. 

Whatever Ben was about to say, it was wholly incorrect. He’d lost _years_ of his life. Rey gave him a patient, reassuring smile after wiping the obvious shock off her face. 

“Take your time,” she said softly. 

The smile he gave her back was sweet—tentative, just like everything else he did. 

“Twenty-five,” Ben finally managed. 

Rey nodded slowly. “So, you’re in law school, then?” 

Ben’s eyes lit up. He nodded confidently, the most self-assured thing she’d witnessed him doing since she walked into his room. 

“H—Harvard,” he said proudly, his small, shy smile transforming into a grin. 

It was all so _innocent_ , the way he spoke and smiled and looked at her. She couldn’t help but narrow her eyes a little, unable to fully conceal her wonder at the situation. The dichotomy of it all was giving her whiplash—how this sweet, unassuming guy had been her brash, unbearable boss not twenty-four hours earlier. 

She also couldn’t help but smile back at him. “That’s quite impressive, Ben.” 

Ben huffed happily through his nose. 

It was fully dark out now, Rey’s watch confirming that it was nearly nine. The stack of paperwork on her desk at the office was lingering in the back of her mind, and she had a few choice words that she wanted to put into an email for Palpatine before the morning. As it was, she wasn’t going to be returning to work any time soon, so she’d need to finish what she could before handing off the rest of her work to Rose. 

Rey sat up a little straighter in her chair. “Listen, I’ve got some things I need to take care of, but I brought your tablet with me so you can read. I don’t want you to go too stir-crazy while I’m gone. The doctor said they’re prepping your spot at the rehab facility for your arrival tomorrow. I’ll be back before you leave here, though.” 

An unmistakable flash of fear went across Ben’s features. It made her want to take back everything she’d just said. 

“Hey,” she said, standing up and inching a little closer to him. “It’s okay. I made sure it was charged and loaded with all of those Dostoevsky novels you never shut up about. Thrilling stuff. I’m sure it’ll put you right to sleep.” 

She tried to maintain a smile, to be kind and positive and comforting as best she could toward this person that she didn’t know, especially considering the way he was looking at her—like a little boy too afraid to sleep without a night light. 

It wasn’t easy, not when those eyes were the same ones that used to enrage her, bring her to tears constantly and drive her to drink half a bottle of wine before eight p.m. most nights. 

But somehow, now, they _weren’t_ the same. That much was brutally evident. 

They were soft and deep where they used to be cold and hard. They were endless and interested in a way that made her neck prickle. They stared unblinkingly like they used to, but now without judgement. 

The nod he gave her eventually was half-hearted at best. Rey reached behind her to grab her bag, fishing through the large tote until she grasped the iPad in question, placing it on the tray near the mauve-colored water pitcher. 

“I removed the passwords and stuff, so you don’t have to worry about that.” 

Ben just stared at it, blinking a few times before nodding again. 

“I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” 

The breath he took in seemed to shake in his chest. “Okay,” he said softly. 

Before she could overthink it, Rey turned on her heel, secured her bag over her shoulder and walked out of the room. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


The office was quiet when Rey arrived the next morning, another vanilla latte warming her hands. 

She got through all of her tedious tasks relatively quickly, not wanting to push too much onto Rose’s plate if she didn’t have to. By the time she was done, and Kylo’s— _Ben’s_ calendar had been cleared of any and all future obligations, it was nearly lunchtime. 

The hearty, unsavory laughs of the senior partners could be heard from the conference room, and Rey looked in their direction as they dispersed, heads thrown back in devious joy as they walked back to their cushy offices. 

When Rey spotted Palpatine among them, she sucked in a breath. Rose followed her glare, turning in her desk chair to see the wrinkly bastard making his way slowly to the biggest private office in the firm. She turned back to Rey and then nudged her head in his direction. 

_Go,_ the gesture said. _Go give him a piece of your mind._

Rey took a deep breath and then nodded quickly. She’d given Rose the rundown on what happened at the hospital the night before and had gotten the expected reaction. They’d agreed after a good hour of bitching that Palpatine deserved to hear Rey’s complaints straight from her mouth—he didn’t deserve the luxury of being able to click out of an email.

So, Rey charged past the cubicles and desks and bubbling water coolers toward his office, ignoring the look of concern on his assistant Mitaka’s face. Rey paid him absolutely no mind as she burst in through the double doors; he’d always been a little scared of her, anyway. 

Palpatine, somehow, seemed to have been expecting her. 

“Hello, Miss Niima,” he trilled. The thick-lensed glasses he wore sat on the bridge of his nose as he stared down at his computer screen, not bothering to look at her as she stood in the middle of his office with her hands planted firmly on her hips. 

The guy looked like he was at least one-hundred years old, even though Rey knew he’d just celebrated his seventy-fifth birthday not long ago. She remembered that night well because she’d had to drive Kylo home from the party after one too many fingers of whiskey.

Normally, he would’ve had a driver around, but that night he’d insisted it be Rey. She didn’t drink at corporate events, and so she’d agreed, though she had been a bit resentful at the idea of leaving behind a fully-stocked buffet. 

It had stuck around in her memory because it was, quite possibly, the only time that he’d ever been remotely decent toward her. Thinking back on it now, it was the closest to _Ben_ she’d ever seen him be, happy and even a little sweet. 

“I like that perfume you wear,” he’d said, slurring a little as he laid down in the backseat, his too-long legs still hanging off the edge. 

Rey’s nose wrinkled. “You told me that you thought I smelled like black pepper.” 

Kylo giggled a little. It was the first time she’d ever heard that sound from him. “I _like_ black pepper. It does make me sneeze sometimes, though.” 

She remembered shaking her head incredulously, swearing that she was being punked, or something like that. There was no other way to explain how _silly_ he was being. 

“Do I make you sneeze, Mr. Ren?” she’d asked, fully aware that she might be poking the bear. 

He snorted. “No, you weirdo.” 

When he’d gotten out of her car, she’d rolled the window down to see if he wanted help up to his room. He’d leaned down, his arms folded over the door, and gave her an undeniably soft smile. It was unsettling, to say the least, that his face was even capable of doing that. 

“Nah, I’m good. Drive safe, Rey,” he said, and then turned and waltzed into his building, only swaying a little once he made it into the lobby. To say she was dumbfounded the entire way home to her apartment was an incredible understatement. Rey was in utter shock.

What _hadn’t_ been quite as much of a shock, though, was when he showed up to work the next Monday and threw his coat onto her desk and demanded two coffees instead of one without even so much as a _please_. Back to his normal self, all shreds of humanity gone. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Palpatine asked, snapping Rey back to the present.

Rey dug the heels of her clearance rack leather booties into the plush carpet and squared her jaw. “I saw him last night.” 

An eerie-looking semblance of a smile spread onto the man’s lips. “Yes, I figured as much, considering I’m the one that told you he was awake.” 

“Did you know that he was experiencing memory loss?” 

Finally, Palpatine gave up on whatever was happening on his monitor and swiveled his body to face Rey full-on. His nearly translucent, wrinkly hands folded together atop his desk as he hunched forward, that same crooked grin still present on his lips. 

“They did let me know that he may experience some...gaps,” he remarked coolly. 

“Gaps?” Rey spit out. “He has no idea who he is! He thinks his name is Ben Solo, and that he’s a twenty-five year-old law student for fuck’s sake.” 

It was subtle, the way Palpatine’s face morphed from disgustingly cavalier into something akin to panic. His nostrils flared, crinkly nose hairs visible from where she stood, and he seemed to be clenching his fingers tighter against the wood of his desk. 

“You didn’t know that, did you?” 

He lifted a patchy-haired eyebrow. “It appears I was not aware of the full extent of his condition.” 

Rey breathed heavily through her nose. “The doctor said that she doesn’t know when he’ll recover his memories. If he _ever_ will. What do you expect _me_ to do about that?” 

Slowly, the relic of a man leaned back against the dark maroon leather of his desk chair, which probably cost more than Rey took home in a year. A bony, knobby-knuckled finger tapped at Palpatine’s chapped lips as he seemed to consider his options, looking at nothing in particular. 

Eventually, he let out a long sigh. “Well, Miss Niima, I would expect that given the generous contributions we’ve made toward your tuition and the exponential increase I’ve ordered on your salary that you’ll be willing to see this through. No matter what that looks like.” 

Rey’s mouth hung open. “But—I—he—” 

“Needs someone from his old life to keep him tethered to it, wouldn’t you agree? And who better to help reeducate him than the person that knew him best?” 

Her eyebrows furrowed deeply, a hard, wrinkly frown forming on her lips. “There’s no way that I’m the person that knew him best. Doesn’t he have any family? Or friends?” 

The smile returned, somehow even more sinister than the first. “Law can be a lonely profession, darling. Especially when you’re as good as he is.” 

_Good._ Right. Ruthless—heartless, more like. 

“Speaking of,” Palpatine perked up, reaching into his desk drawer to retrieve a manila folder that he placed carefully atop his mahogany desk. “Ren left a few notes on his beneficiary paperwork back when he started with us. There are some things in here that I believe will be pertinent to the situation at hand. Look them over when you have a moment. Assuming you would still like to earn your six figures and go to school for free, that is.” 

After a small moment of hesitation, Rey walked forward to take the envelope. When she grasped it, his palm found her hand and squeezed. 

“I am trusting your discretion here, Miss Niima, in regards to Ren’s current state.” 

His words were threatening in the most subtle of ways, brooking no argument. 

Rey gave him a curt nod before taking the file and leaving his office. 

* * *

After setting up her out-of-office auto-reply and handing off her unfinished projects to Rose, Rey got on the road to head back to the hospital. It was twenty minutes away, giving her a little too much time to be in her head, swimming around in anxious, unsettling thoughts.

She was navigating in completely uncharted territory, and after looking at his file in the parking lot, it appeared that she might have to do so completely alone. 

In large, bright red marker, he’d written: 

_DO NOT FOR ANY REASON, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, CONTACT MY MOTHER, LEIA ORGANA, MY FATHER, HAN SOLO, OR MY UNCLE, LUKE SKYWALKER._   
  


Tears had beaded in the corners of her eyes out of frustration upon reading the words. It was the next thing on her list to do, and now she was at a loss. 

If ever he did regain his memories and found out that she’d gone against his explicit orders, he’d definitely fire her, and probably blackball her throughout all of Coruscant just like he’d promised. The memory makes her grip the folder harder, wrinkling it in her fists as her knuckles turn white. Kylo Ren may have checked out of the building momentarily, but he still loomed over her like a dreadful, monstrous shadow. 

After a brief moment of exasperation, Rey looked at her watch and squeaked a little. It was almost two p.m., and the van that would transport Ben from Coruscant Memorial to the rehabilitation facility was set to arrive at half-past. Quickly, she shoved the file into her bag and gathered the rest of her things before rushing into the hospital.

“ _There_ you are,” one of the nurses sighed as Rey approached. She ran a hand through her dishwater blonde hair, closing the door behind her. “He’s been asking about you all day. Just kept saying _Rey_ every time we tried to talk to him.” 

“Huh,” Rey huffed. “That’s—umm—” she stammered, “Well, I’m here now.” 

“Great. Maybe you can get him to change his clothes before the transport gets here,” the nurse mused, walking away from Rey with a tight-lipped smile. 

Rey opened her mouth to protest, to spout off something about not being _that_ kind of visitor, but the nurse was long gone, clearly ready to pass the buck that was Ben. 

The room was bright this time when she opened the door, flooded from the large windows with the cloudless daylight that twinged everything in an offwhite, hazy glow. 

It was nothing compared to the way Ben’s face when Rey rounded the corner. 

That alone could’ve lit up an entire block. 

It was striking, how quickly his entire demeanor changed when he saw her. She’d never experienced anything quite like it—having that much of an effect on someone. 

It wasn’t sitting right with her, how much she didn’t _hate_ it. 

“Rey,” Ben breathed, his smile undeniably relieved. 

“Hi,” Rey said, walking up to the same wholly uncomfortable chair and taking a seat. His eyes followed her the whole way, and only once she was settled in did she notice that the iPad hadn’t moved from where she placed it the night before. 

Rey’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why didn’t you use it?” she asked, tilting her chin in toward it. 

The unadulterated happiness that had spread over Ben’s face started to leak quickly, leaving something behind that was sorrowful, perhaps even a little frightened.

“What is it?” Rey asked, leaning forward. 

Ben took a deep breath and leaned his head back, letting it fall gently against the bed. He looked like he was about to cry. Rey stood up and closed the distance between her and his bedside, taking a seat at the very edge. 

“Ben, what happened?” 

Finally, he looked at her, and the devastation that clouded his expression made her heart clench in her chest. She’d _never_ seen him look so down. 

“I tried,” he managed, voice cracking a little. 

She gave him a small smile. “And?” 

Ben shut his eyes, squeezing them together tightly. A long breath came through his nose, and Rey noticed that he was clenching his fists at his side.

“You can tell me,” she whispered gently. 

Slowly, he opened his eyes. There were tears welling in them, threatening to spill at any second. Rey denied the sudden urge to reach out for one of his hands. 

Ben’s face crumpled as he blinked out a few fat, heavy tears before letting his head fall back again.

“I—I can’t read.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on [twitter!](http://twitter.com/taylormaybe)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're back!!! thanks as always to my beta fam, i love you guys so much. this would not be possible without you.
> 
> come follow me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/taylormaybe) if you haven't already!

Coruscant’s swankiest rehabilitation center was located on its own half-acre on the far east side of town, complete with a massive privacy fence lining the perimeter and a rent-a-cop at the entrance. The lobby looked like something out of Architectural Digest; there was exposed brick and pipes lining the walls and ceilings, and finished concrete sprawled throughout the waiting room and into the adjacent hallways. The circular-shaped front desk sat in the middle of the room, dark cherrywood shining under the glow of the soft fluorescent lights. 

The transportation staff wheeled Ben in slowly, chattering quietly to themselves as they went, Rey trailing a few feet behind with Ben’s belongings in a duffel that hung off her shoulder. She watched the back of his head as they went and could see him slowly taking in his new surroundings. If she looked close enough, she could also see his knuckles losing color, poking out sharply as he gripped the wheelchair. 

Leaving the hospital hadn’t been an easy feat. After his admission about not being able to read, Rey’d been a little dumbstruck. Lost. Overwhelmed suddenly and wholly at the severity of his condition. The list of gaps in Ben’s memories was ever-growing and evolving; in some ways, he was perfectly normal, and in others, he was like a child. He couldn’t read, couldn’t walk on his own. 

He never wanted to be alone. 

When they arrived at his new room, Rey nodded in farewell to the hospital staff as they left, leaving the two of them alone in the brand new space. It was equally as pristinely decorated as the lobby, with russet-colored leather chairs that looked supremely more comfortable than those atrocities at the hospital, and a bed for Ben that looked like something out of a Tempurpedic commercial. 

For a moment, it was quiet between them as Rey stood with his bag and hers, watching him look around the room with his features and fists tight. 

Eventually, she asked, “What do you think?” 

The question brought him back to the moment suddenly, like she’d reminded him that she was actually there beside him. His face softened immediately, and then he shrugged, a small, sad smile on his lips. 

Rey nodded. “It’s really nice though, yeah? That bed looks absolutely lush.” 

Ben huffed, turning his gaze to the bed. He stared at it for a few moments and then looked back to her. After a long stretch of silence, he said, “Can—” 

Rey looked at him expectantly, patiently. Before he could try again, someone burst through the door, a wave of energy following in their wake. 

“Hello, good people!” the man said as he entered. Rey and Ben both stared at him, unsure of what to make of this sudden intrusion. 

He looked back at the door. “Sorry, did I interrupt? I’ll knock next time, I promise. You must be Ben,” he said, turning his body toward Ben and crouching down until they were at eye-level. “Hey man. I’m Poe. Poe Dameron.” 

Poe reached his hand out, and after a few seconds of hesitation, Ben did too. They shook and Poe smiled warmly, revealing a mouth full of bright, white teeth as the gesture reached his eyes and took up his whole face. He stood up and turned to Rey, grin fading slightly, but still radiant. “You’re Rey, right?” 

Rey nodded as they shook hands. “Are you the physical therapist?” 

“Guilty,” Poe said as he folded his arms over his chest. “I’ll be with you guys for the next few weeks while we get Benny here up and running again.” 

Ben grimaced. “Ju—” he attempted and blew out a breath through his nose. Poe’s eyebrows shot up as they waited for him to try again. 

Eventually, he bit out, “Just Ben. Please.” 

Poe smiled. “You got it, Just Ben. I’ll give you the night to get settled in. We’ll get started in the morning. I’ll take things slow, help you get up and moving, get you talking more, all that jazz,” he stated, walking backwards toward the door. 

He’d turned around and was about to bid them farewell when he pivoted quickly on his heel, his face lighting up like he’d forgotten something extremely crucial. “Oh, also. Word to the wise—the meatloaf is your best option on Tuesdays. The King Ranch Chicken is always questionable. Avoid it at all costs.”

Rey managed a nod, and then he gave them another million-watt smile. 

“See you kids in the morning!” Poe said, and then was gone as quickly as he came.

  
  


* * *

  
  


After helping Ben onto the bed, Rey managed to get out of him what he’d been trying to ask earlier, which was to look through the duffel of the things he’d had on him the night of the shooting. She’d perused it before they left the hospital, finding a plastic bag containing his watch, wallet, keys, and phone, along with his suit, tie, and shoes. She’d thought absently about how it was a good thing for the hospital staff that it was Ben they were dealing with and not Kylo; if he found out that they’d stuffed his ten-thousand dollar Kiton suit into a haphazard ball at the bottom of a bag, he would have had someone’s head. 

Ben looked through everything slowly, almost methodically. Stared at his favorite—well, Kylo’s favorite—Rolex for upwards of five minutes before placing it carefully on the tray table, examined the fine leather of his wallet before opening it and taking out every item. All of his credit cards, membership cards, identification lay out in front of him, displaying a bold, expensive life that he had no recollection of whatsoever. His face remained impassive throughout this journey, and Rey watched it all quietly from one of the leather chairs near his bed. 

When he pulled the suit out, he held it up, chewing the inside of his cheek as he looked it up and down. She refrained from telling him that each suit he owned was bespoke; he had his own personal tailor for years, a silvery, older man named Krennick that worked with all of the higher-ups at Palpatine & Associates. 

He moved onto the pants after folding the jacket and setting it beside him on the bed, and then Ben stuck his hand into the pants pocket and pulled out a bright pink sticky note. Rey’s eyes went wide as she nearly lunged forward. Thankfully, it dawned on her just in time that he wouldn’t be able to read what was on it. 

Ben stared at the note with a puzzled expression on his face. Rey cleared her throat, sitting up a little straighter in her chair. “That, umm—that’s the note I left for you when I quit a few days ago. It’s a bit rude. I was angry.” 

His eyes moved slowly from the note to find hers. She could see the concern there laced with utter confusion, and it made her heart squeeze. 

“Why?” he asked softly. 

She considered him for a moment, wondering how best to approach the subject of his past self and how remarkably awful he’d been. Ben was like a wounded animal, and Rey his keeper. She had to be careful, and above all else, she had to be gentle. 

“I was your assistant, and you and I didn’t always see eye-to-eye. You were very good at your job, but in my opinion, the cost of being good at your job was your humanity. Your kindness,” Rey began, keeping her voice soft and warm, removing as many edges as she could. 

“A complete tosser,” he added, and Rey froze. It took her a second to realize he was repeating her words back to her from the previous day, before she’d realized how severe his condition was. Before she’d discovered _Ben_.

Ben, whose lips were quirking up slightly at the corners now as he looked at her. Rey could feel herself thaw at the sight of his shy smile; she nodded, giving him one in return. 

“Yes,” she said. “Sometimes. Most of the time, really. The day of—” 

The day that someone shot Ben in the head. Even now, neck-deep in the aftermath of it, it still felt too heavy on her tongue to say aloud. 

“Of the incident. We got into it. You’d, uh—you’d said something about my parents that really hurt me. I’d hit the end of my rope, and I got angry with you and quit.” 

The smile on Ben’s face was long gone, replaced now with a sadness she’d never witnessed on that face. Remorse, bleeding out in pools, covering his entire body. 

“I—” he started with a shaky voice. They held each other’s gaze as he finally managed, “I’m sorry.” 

Rey nodded. “It’s okay. I can’t really hold it against you now, can I?” 

Ben’s answering smile was weak at best. He looked like he was racking his brain for something more, anything he could grab onto that would help him understand. It made Rey feel inexplicably sad, seeing how hard it was for him to reconcile this part of himself that he didn't know. 

After a beat, he perked up a little. “Could, um—h-have you talked to my mom?” 

Rey went still. “I haven’t. Would you like me to?” 

Ben nodded.

The beneficiary file was blaring in her mind, the bright red letters warning her away from this path, but she couldn’t bear the thought of keeping Ben from his family if it was what he wanted. 

From what she could see, Kylo Ren had taken enough from him already. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


By the time Rey arrived the next morning with her latte and Ben’s requested iced caramel macchiato, Poe was already there. 

He was dressed in navy blue scrubs, and his hair was curly and unkempt in a way that was still somehow stylish. He was sitting at Ben’s bedside, his head thrown back in laughter when Rey walked in, the morning sun leaking through the half-open curtains and bathing her in its dull warmth. 

When Ben’s eyes found her, the smile on his face bled quickly into a grin. “Hi, Rey,” he said excitedly, almost confidently.

“Good morning,” Rey replied, smiling at the both of them as she set Ben’s coffee down on his tray table. “What’s got you two in such a good mood?” 

Poe stood then, placing a gentle hand on Rey’s shoulder. “This guy is a hoot. He was telling me about this time at Berkeley when he woke up in the back of a pickup truck with nothing on but a kimono.” 

Rey’s eyebrow raised as she turned to look at Ben, who was smiling cheekily at her. When he shrugged, she let out a little chuckle. “Sounds like Ben knows how to have some fun.”

“Maybe a little too much fun for my blood, but hey. A few too many Mezcal margaritas never hurt anyone. Except maybe you, that morning,” Poe remarked, folding his arms over his chest. “ _Anyhoo_ , now that Rey’s here—” he cut himself off, turning to Rey to say, somewhat quietly, “he refused to start until you got here,” and then back to Ben, “can we get you into some normal clothes and go for a walk?”

Rey watched Ben’s eyes move from them to somewhere else in the room, and when she followed, she saw immediately where his apprehension stemmed from. There was a walker, all bright titanium and dark rubber, sitting near the foot of the bed, waiting for him. He’d need it for at least a few days, and it seemed to loom over him like an angry storm cloud. 

He found Rey’s eyes again after a moment, and she managed to give him a reassuring nod. “A walk sounds nice, don’t you think?” she asked gently. 

Ben blinked at her a few times, and then nodded. “Okay.” 

  
  


* * *

The garden was beautiful—the perfect complement to the facility itself, sprawling to the edges of the building and enveloping it in beds of roses and lilies and honeysuckle as far as the eye could see. It smelled wonderful upon their approach, the families of flowers all coating the air with sweetness. 

Ben walked extremely slowly, even with the help of the walker. Poe stood by him, talked him through it as they went, keeping a close eye on Ben’s ankles and knees for any sign of buckling or twisting. He was moving, which was a win in and of itself, but it was obvious by how unsure he was with his footing that he did indeed need help. Rey trailed behind them so as to not interrupt, but after every few steps, Ben would turn to make sure that she was still there. 

There were a group of white iron tables near the center, and various patients and staff were scattered around, some doing things as idle as sunbathing and others playing chess or stretching out their elbows with their own physical therapists. 

As they approached, they were greeted by a short, dark-skinned woman whose name tag read _Maz,_ who insisted Ben join her for tea and a scone. He agreed reluctantly, walking away from Rey and Poe slowly as Maz guided his walker. 

Rey realized that she’d likely not have much time alone with Poe in the future unless she happened to catch him outside of the room, so she took a few steps closer, keeping her eyes on Ben. 

“Can I ask you a question?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest. 

Poe looked at her. “Shoot.” 

She returned his gaze momentarily before turning her eyes back to Ben. “He doesn’t remember his life past 2009. Thinks he’s twenty-five and a law student. But you know that he’s not, right?” 

“I got the jist of it from Dr. Phasma before he arrived, yeah.” 

Rey bit her lip. “It says on his beneficiary paperwork that no one is to contact his family under any circumstances but—” 

Poe gave her the time and didn't press as she considered how to phrase her question. Finally, she asked, “If Kylo Ren is the one that wrote that, and Ben Solo is the one that wants to see his family, who should I be listening to?” 

For a long moment, Poe looked ahead, joining her in watching Ben as he sat with Maz, a big, crooked and goofy smile on his face as he sipped his tea, the macchiato long forgotten in the walker’s cup holder. Maz’s laughter echoed through the garden as she nudged Ben’s shoulder, seemingly completely tickled. 

Poe sighed. “I don’t know about you,” he said, turning back to Rey. “But I think we should listen to the guy that seems to be able to make anyone laugh like _that_.”

  
  


* * *

Upon hearing that Ben had also lost the ability to read, Poe had graciously provided Rey with directions to the facility’s library, where she collected a few _Learn to Read_ books in a shopping basket, hoping that they would be just the ticket to getting back into the swing of things. She’d never actually taught anyone how to read, but she did manage to teach herself when she was four, so she figured it couldn’t be that much different. 

They sat in the room after Ben wolfed down a plate of meatloaf and green beans, and Rey held the third page of _100 Words to Read by First Grade_ out in front of both of them, patiently helping Ben sound each individual word out. 

“G—g—o-o-d,” he sputtered, getting through it but not without a large amount of effort. After a few moments, he said, “ _Good_ ,” and Rey nodded, smiling at him and urging him to continue. 

“A-n, _an_ … e—ahh,” he attempted the word _easy,_ “E—ah—sy.” 

“That one’s a little tricky, but a good one to remember,” Rey pointed out, her index finger moving to the word. “When an _e_ and an _a_ are together like this, it usually sounds like _eeee._ Try it that way.” 

Ben nodded. “Eeeeesy,” he said slowly, and then, “Easy! Easy!” 

Rey’s cheeks hurt from how big her smile grew, and she nodded excitedly. “Exactly!” 

Ben nodded again, eyes narrowing slightly as he moved onto the next word. “T—huh-t-huh,” he sighed then, frustrated at the speed bump. 

“It’s okay. There’s another trick with this one. Whenever these two letters are next to each other,” she pointed to the _t_ and _h_ , “it means you make a _thhh_ sound. Like your tongue is stuck on your teeth. Can you try that?” 

He complied, and together, they made the sound. “See?” Rey asked playfully. “You’re picking it all up in no time.” 

Ben still looked slightly defeated, and she could tell that he was getting tired. It’d been a long day of walking and stretching with Poe, who was a warm, bright light in their otherwise dim situation, but also had an unmatchable level of energy and talked _a lot_. Just being around him for a few hours was something of a workout, and Rey wasn’t even the one he was exercising. 

“Will—will you um,” Ben began, clenching his big hands into fists. “Will you read to me instead?” 

Rey’s stomach did an uncontrollable flip. “Um. Sure, I can do that.” 

And so she did, pulling out _Cat in the Hat_ and putting on her best narrator voice. She relished in the sound of his soft chuckles as she did different voices and made silly faces, and found that as they neared the end of the story, she didn’t want the book to end. 

When it did, she closed it and placed it carefully on the tray table. She leaned back in the leather chair, pulling her knees up to her chest, and realized that Ben was looking at her. He gazed at her in a way she didn’t recognize, and it was curious enough that it prompted a mirthful, “What?” 

He swallowed hard; she watched his Adam’s apple bob heavily in his throat. 

“What is it?” Rey encouraged, a bit softer this time. 

“I’m sorry again, Rey,” Ben said, his eyes turning sad. “I’m sorry for—for not being good to you.” 

Rey’s heart leapt into her throat. She could physically feel the lump there as she tried to swallow. She let her feet fall back to the floor, and leaned forward on her knees, giving Ben the same reassuring smile she kept managing to muster up for him. It was full of a hope and confidence that came more naturally to her than she could’ve ever expected.

“It’s in the past,” Rey told him. “And besides,” she continued when he didn’t look all that convinced, “you can be good to me now.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone else just want to squish ben's cheeks?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> love you beta babes <3

The sudden lack of room in Rey’s schedule was evident all over the apartment she shared with Finn. The tiny space wasn't often spotless in the first place, but now, the off-white carpet was barely visible under their collective belongings. Her clothes and his were strewn about on the loveseats, pizza boxes littered the countertops of the galley kitchen and there was a teetering stack of dog-eared textbooks on the coffee table. 

With Finn in grad school, too, and on almost the exact opposite schedule as Rey, they hardly saw each other. She hadn’t had a face-to-face conversation with him since the night of the shooting, and only provided him with random, too-short updates that she sent to their group text with Rose. 

But, by some unexpected miracle, he had a class canceled last minute on Wednesday evening and was now sitting across from her in the living room, both of them diligently ignoring the chaos that surrounded them as she gave him the rundown on her past week. 

“I think I’m gonna call her," Rey declared. "Poe said I should listen to Ben, and I know if I poll anyone at the firm, they’ll tell me to listen to the file. That alone makes me want to call her. Am I crazy here? Is it too big of a risk?” she asked her best friend, a clear plastic cup full of homemade sangria in one hand and her cell phone in the other. 

Finn had his feet propped up on one of the few empty spaces on the coffee table and his arms folded behind his head. He pursed his lips, considering. 

“Are we operating under the assumption that he’s never going to remember who he was before? Because that guy was a fucking nightmare and I don’t want this to come back and bite you in the ass.” 

Rey paused, her momentum snuffed slightly by the question. She didn’t know the answer to it. No one did. 

Instead, she was caught between two dichotomous lives: the cold, empty one of Kylo Ren’s, and this light-streaked thing that was Ben’s, all golden warmth and shy smiles. Contemplating any of Kylo’s life finding its way into Ben’s was unnerving, and trying to predict whether he’d eradicate everything that Ben was in the wake of his return caused a pit of worry to build in Rey’s gut. 

Kylo seemed so far away now—dead in a way that brooked no mourning, not when what he’d left behind was something so full of hope and kindness.

“No one knows,” Rey murmured, staring at the floating screensaver on their tiny flat screen television. “As of right now, he’s a blank slate. Expunged completely of everything Kylo.” 

Finn shrugged. “I say go for it, then. No use in following a dead man’s rules.” 

Rey bit her lip and looked at her phone, the sunflower background bright and colorful and displaying the semi-decent hour. She knew from working as his assistant that his mother was two hours behind Coruscant and would more than likely be awake. She also knew her number by heart—an easy thing to memorize when you saw it every single day at the same time for four months. 

“You’re right,” Rey breathed and sat up from the couch. “I’m gonna do it.” 

She plugged the number in, whispering it to herself as she tapped away at the keys, and then walked outside to stand on their tiny balcony. There were two metal folding chairs collecting dust on the concrete, but Rey never did well with sitting still while on the phone. She liked to pace. Especially if she was nervous, and as soon as the line started to ring, she realized that she was _extremely_ nervous to talk to Ben’s mother for the first time after months of avoiding her at his behest. 

The deep, rumbly voice was not what she’d been expecting. Neither was the gruff “This is Leia Organa,” she got in lieu of a hello. Rey’s eyebrows shot up. 

“Hi, Ms. Organa, this is Rey Niima. I was—well, _am_ your son’s assistant.” 

The line was quiet for a few brief seconds, not unexpectedly. If Rey’s suspicions were correct, this was probably the first time in a long while that anyone had contacted Leia regarding her son. 

“Is he—is everything alright?” she asked. The confidence in her voice had wavered significantly; gone was the abrupt nature of her clipped words.

Rey chewed the inside of her cheek as she walked up and down the six-by-six patio, stepping around old cigarette butts and avoiding a trail of ants that seemed to be marching in the direction of the storage closet. 

“Um. He’s okay, yes,” she told her and took a deep breath in. “But something did happen. I apologize for waiting so long to call and tell you, but I was under strict orders from Kylo to not contact you under any circumstances.” 

Leia huffed. “No surprise there. What changed?” 

Rey looked over to the chairs and moved to take a seat in one of them, deciding that maybe it was best to keep herself still considering how fast her mind and heart were racing. She propped her feet up against the railing, eyes on her neon pink toes as she thought carefully on how to tell Ben’s mother that he’d been shot in the head and had completely lost his past eleven years. 

After a long exhale, she said, “I think it’s best if I start from the beginning.”

  
  


* * *

If Rey was being honest with herself, the conversation went better than she expected. Leia was a force of nature; that was evident even though they’d only spoken for a grand total of thirty minutes, and Rey felt comforted by the fact that she would soon not be the only person supporting Ben. 

As she lay atop her bedspread scrolling through her Twitter feed, she thought absently about how much Leia’s tone had shifted upon hearing of the resurgence of Ben and the synonymous extinguishing of Kylo. Rey hadn’t pried for details—didn’t feel like she had the right to, but there was something in Leia’s voice that hadn’t been there before. Rey knew what it was, too—could hear it plain as day. 

Hope. 

Finn had fallen asleep on the couch while they watched Food Network and she’d abandoned him in favor of her bed. The television had since gone to sleep, leaving the apartment in a heavy quiet. So quiet, in fact, that when Rey’s phone began to ring loudly, displaying an unsaved number, she nearly jumped off the bed. 

Normally, she wouldn’t pick up at this hour, but with everything that had happened over the past few days, she wasn’t going to take any chances. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi, Rey. This is Maz Kanata from Takodana Rehabilitation.” 

Rey sat up immediately. “Oh. Hi, Maz.” 

“Sorry for the hour, dear, but we’re having a bit of an emergency over here.” 

Instantly, Rey’s face started to flush. She could feel her skin heating up, her heart starting to race as a million different scenarios started to run through her head like a highlight reel of nightmares. _Ben._

_Something was wrong with Ben._

“What’s going on?”

“It appears Ben is having some night terrors. He’s woken up in quite a tizzy for the second night in a row. We were able to get him back down last night, but tonight seems much worse,” Maz explained, worry evident in her tone. “I know it’s late, honey, but he’s been asking for you. We can give him something to get him back to sleep, but I wanted to try and exhaust the natural alternative first.” 

“ _Oh_ —oh, no. Um,” Rey stammered, pushing off from her bed immediately and looking down at her clothes. She was in her pajamas, which always consisted of a large, comfortable t-shirt, a thong, and fuzzy socks. Her eyes darted around her room, which rivaled the living room with its messiness, and she started to quickly dig through piles of clean and dirty clothes to find something she could throw on. 

“Yes,” she managed, tugging the baby pink socks off her feet before pulling up a pair of light wash jeans. She raced over to her nightstand to grab her well-worn copy of _Sense and Sensibility_ and tucked it under her arm, and with a voice somewhat wrought with shakiness and panic, finally confirmed, “I’m on my way.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


There was something somewhat startling about how different the facility looked and felt when it was dark and quiet. Where it had been sleek and modern in the hazy sunlight, it was colder now—the dim fluorescents casting an ominous edge on all the angles. Rey’s rubber flip flops tapped softly against the hard, polished concrete as she marched toward Ben’s room, which sat on the first floor but was tucked in a corner far away from the entrance. 

When she finally arrived, Maz was waiting for her with the door cracked open, letting the bright light from the room surge into the hallway in a harsh rectangle.

“Dear child,” Maz murmured as she met Rey halfway. "Thank you for coming." She reached up to place her tiny, wrinkly hands on Rey’s bicep and sighed. "I think he may need you much more than we knew.” 

Rey stared at Maz for a brief moment, looking into her bright brown eyes through her thick bifocals and let the statement sink in. With lips that had been worried the whole way over, Rey managed a tight smile. “I’m here,” she replied. 

Maz nodded, and then stepped to Rey’s left, leaving her alone in the hallway as she walked back toward the nurse’s station. 

Ben wasn’t on his bed when Rey carefully pushed the door the rest of the way open. He wasn’t on the loveseat or any of the chairs that were littered around the room, either. Had he not been such a massively tall human being, she probably wouldn’t have noticed him as quickly as she did, considering how tall the bed was. 

But thankfully, he was well over six feet, so even though he was hunched over with his head in his hands on the other side of the bed, facing the window, she could just make out the top of his form, could just register the tiny shake in his shoulders that coincided with the soft echoing of his muffled sobs. 

Rey didn’t say anything as she set her bag down on the chair that she usually occupied. She didn’t say anything as she walked around the large bed to find him sitting atop the cold tile, and she didn’t say anything as she sunk down next to him, leaning back gently against the bed frame. 

She'd made enough noise that he’d likely noticed her arrival, but had yet to pick his head up from where it was pressed against his palms. 

“Rey?” he asked, voice muddy from sobbing. 

“Yeah,” Rey said softly, pulling her knees up to her chest. He was quiet for a second, the only sound in the room his sniffles and deep, long breaths. 

“I woke up and—” Ben started, cutting himself off with a harsh, deep sob. “I-I was so…scared for a minute. I didn’t know where I was. I didn’t want to be alone—I was so afraid of being alone.” 

“Hey,” Rey reached out a tentative hand toward his back. She let it hover over the vast expanse of his back for a second before carefully placing it near his right shoulder blade. Ever so gently, she rubbed her thumb against the white cotton of his t-shirt. “I’m here. I’m right here.” 

“I’m s-sorry,” Ben sniffled. “I know it’s really late.” 

“Don’t be,” Rey assured. “I’m glad they called me.”

Ben picked up his head and revealed shiny red eyes and splotchy cheeks. His hair was a stringy mess in his face, and he pushed it away from his forehead as he looked at her. “Yeah?”

Rey nodded. She didn’t stop her movements, and instead started to use her whole hand to rub his soft circles into his back as she said, “You’re not alone, Ben.” 

Through his tears, he managed a watery smile that somehow managed to reach his eyes. The sight of it, so genuine and wholehearted despite his obvious distress made Rey’s heart pound hard against her ribcage so roughly that she swore she could actually hear it. 

“Not anymore,” he whispered.

She smiled back. “Right. Not anymore.” 

Ben nodded, and then looked away from her. She let her hand drift away from his back as he stared down at the streaks of marble in the tile. His eyes seemed to unfocus for a second. After a beat, he murmured, “I don’t think I like it here, Rey.” 

Rey considered him and his words for a brief moment. “How come?” 

He shrugged. “It’s just...it’s so cold.” 

“Cold?” 

If only he knew what his office looked like, Rey thought. It made this place look like a hipster bungalow. She thought of the apartment that he kept on the top floor of one of the high rises in downtown Coruscant, thinking that there was no way it could be much better. But if he was unhappy to the point of panic attacks in the middle of the night, then perhaps they'd have to figure something out. 

“Let’s talk to Poe tomorrow and see what our options are.” 

The relief seemed to rush through him like a welcome breeze. His shoulders sank, his face softened; it looked like he’d just unloaded a hundred pounds of excess weight. 

“Okay,” he breathed, nodding. 

Rey lay her cheek against her knees as they sat, listening quietly as Ben’s breathing started to even out. His sniffles persisted, and every once and awhile he’d rub at his nose with the back of his hand. 

Eventually, he looked over to her with his expression light. “Will you stay?” 

She couldn’t help the way her eyes widened a bit in response. “Oh…” 

Ben chewed on his lip, instantly nervous. “You don’t have to. I just—” 

“No—no, I can. Sure. Yeah,” she told him. It wasn't a difficult decision to make once the initial shock had worn off. Rey watched as his face softened again. 

He looked behind him, sitting up fully for the first time. “I think there’s, umm—there’s a cot in the closet. I can get it.” 

Rey untucked her legs. “No, don’t get up—I can get it. I’m sure it’s much comfier than many of the things I’ve slept on in my day.” 

Ben's face twisted with confusion. “ _You’re_ not sleeping on it.” 

“What are you on about?” 

Ben slowly got to his feet, his legs shaking slightly as he reached for his walker. “I’m the one that asked you to stay—you’re not sleeping on the cot.” 

“Ben, don’t be ridiculous—” 

“You—you have a bad back, Rey, I’m not—” 

Had she not been so flummoxed, so taken aback by his ridiculous request, she might’ve put more thought into how well he seemed to be using his words now, how easy it seemed for him to form sentences, and how he suddenly knew that she _did_ have a bad back at the ripe age of twenty-four. In the moment, though, she chalked it up to probably having told him at some point whilst sitting on those atrocious hospital chairs. 

“Look," Rey huffed. "Either I sleep on the cot, or I sleep at my apartment. You’re _enormous,_ and you’re recovering from a _traumatic brain injury_ and,” Ben opened his mouth to interrupt her, but her hand flew up. “ _And_ I brought Sense and Sensibility to read to you, so I want you to think very hard about what you’re going to say next.” 

Ben stared, his mouth slightly ajar. After a beat, he shook his head. “Okay, fine.” 

Rey nodded resolutely. “Great. Now, please. Lay down, get comfortable, and prepare to enter the world of the Dashwood Sisters while I get this thing out of the closet.” 

He did as instructed without complaint, though he did pout a little as he situated himself. By the time she’d gotten the cot horizontal and the starchy sheets spread out over the sad excuse for a mattress, he was tucked in, sitting with his back against the headboard. 

Watching her. _Always_ watching her. 

Rey kicked off her flip flops and sat down on the cot, which his legs would’ve hung off of to an almost comedic extent, and sat criss-crossed as she reached for the book in her bag. The pages were slightly wrinkled, evidence of a well-loved story that she’d read again and again. 

She opened the book after sparing one last glance at Ben, who now seemed light years away from where she’d found him less than twenty minutes ago. His entire demeanor had shifted entirely; he looked content, his head leaning back against the headboard and a faint smile on his lips. He looked like he could pass out at any moment. Satisfied with that thought, Rey’s eyes drifted back to the page, and she started to read.

She didn’t stop until she heard his little snores from across the room and looked up to see him fast asleep.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Rey woke up before him the next morning, unsurprisingly contorted into a hellish, unnatural position. She sat up and stretched out her arms as quietly as she could, swiftly avoiding letting out any expletives as she realized just how stiff she was, how achy her joints were after a night of restlessness. Quickly, she reached for her jeans, maneuvering awkwardly under the thin cotton blanket so she could tug them up her legs. 

After confirming that Ben was out for the count, she’d stripped down to her underwear under the covers. She knew that Poe would be bursting through the door at any moment with breakfast, so she only had mere minutes to make herself decent. When she heard a husky chortle from the other side of the room, her gaze cut immediately to the source of the sound, and there was Ben, leaning against his palm, eyes puffy from sleep and a lopsided smirk on his lips. 

Rey narrowed her eyes at him as she zipped and buttoned her jeans. 

“Hush up,” she chided. 

As she stood and gathered the blanket, folding it messily over the cot, she could feel his eyes on her. Even as she moved about the room, running her hands through her messy, knotted hair, it seemed they never left. 

Eventually, she met them. He stared unabashedly, the smirk still there. 

“What?” she asked, unable to contain her own smile. 

“Nothing,” Ben murmured. “I just—I like you being here when I wake up.” 

Rey’s cheeks went a little pink. “Yeah, me too.” 

Like clockwork, Poe knocked a melodic beat on the door. They didn’t acknowledge it, not yet, but kept each other’s gaze for a moment instead. Eventually, Poe knocked another few times, leading Ben to shout a gruff, “Alright, alright. Come in.” 

Poe entered, carrying a tray with two covered plates and silverware, along with a carrier that held three steaming cups. He walked in and sat himself in Rey’s usual chair without ceremony, setting the tray down and pushing it toward Ben, who’d sat up and swung his long legs over the bed, his feet now planted firmly on the floor. 

“Rough night, huh?” Poe asked, handing Rey’s plate to her before leaning back in the chair and propping his feet up. 

Ben nodded, inspecting the scrambled eggs on the hard plastic plate. They looked to be about two minutes past their prime, and Rey confirmed when she took a small bite that they tasted like it, too. 

As soon as she managed to swallow, Rey cleared her throat and looked to Poe from the leather loveseat that sat at the far end of the room. 

“What’s the policy on at-home care?” she asked, not finding it necessary to exclude Ben from a conversation that would so greatly impact him. 

Poe glanced over to her, eyebrows lifting. “Can’t say we’ve had anyone want to leave so soon, but I’m sure something could be worked out.” 

“Would, uh—” Ben began, fork near his mouth with a piece of grayish-looking sausage. “Would you be able to come with us?” 

Even from across the room, Rey could see the brilliance in Poe’s responding grin. “I don’t see why not, bud. Let me talk to the boss.” 

Ben nodded, eyes bright from the morning light and the relief of potentially getting out of the facility. They sat in companionable silence for the next few minutes, Poe resting his head on his folded hands and Ben and Rey finishing their breakfast. 

Eventually, Poe let out a long sigh. “What do you think about getting some miles in on the stationary bike today, then maybe we try for a couple laps around the garden?” 

Ben blinked at him a few times. “Okay. Sure. Can Rey come?” 

“As if you’d do it without her.” Poe smirked. 

Rey ducked her head, doing her best to conceal the smile that tugged at her lips. Another moment passed and then someone knocked, causing all three of them to look quickly to the door. It wasn’t a playful one like Poe’s, either—much more determined. Rey’s brow furrowed as she stood, walking toward the door to greet whomever was on the other side. When she opened it, it took her a moment to realize she had to cast her gaze downward to take in the person in front of her. 

“You must be Rey,” the woman said, in a voice that Rey would know anywhere, considering the countless voicemails she'd had to listen to over the past few months.

“I’m Leia. I’m here to see my son.”  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you beta team as always! <3

To say that Leia Organa commanded a room would’ve been a remarkable understatement. 

She didn’t just command it. She owned it from top to bottom, looking like she’d been there dozens of times before. Even at her height, which couldn’t be more than five feet, she radiated a large, intimidating energy that had Poe and Rey both standing back as she approached her son with heavy, purposeful steps. 

But then she spoke, and it was like the universe made sense again—because even she, this woman that Rey barely knew but already wanted to impress and worship simultaneously, could be afraid of something, and that fear leaked out in droves as soon as she opened her mouth. 

“Ben?”

Ben was standing now, towering over her. His face looked soft. 

“Hi, mom.” 

Leia crumbled almost instantly. Then, it was a blur of quick, rough movement as she slung her arms around his middle and squeezed. Ben leaned down, returning her embrace and smoothing his hand over the back of her head. He huffed happily, and Leia squeezed even tighter. She pulled back slightly, tilting her head up to look at him. “How is this possible?”

Ben’s face fell a little. “I don’t know,” he said softly. 

Leia looked astounded, staring up at her son in complete wonder. Rey could actually see the relief as it passed over her features. 

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just happy to have you back.” 

Poe cleared his throat and everyone’s gaze cut to him. Ben still looked so _soft_ as he held his mother in his arms, a tiny smile tugging at his lips as he turned his head. 

“Hi, Ben’s mom,” he said with all the confidence Rey had grown used to from him. “I’m Poe Dameron, his physical therapist.” 

Poe reached forward to shake her hand and Rey watched as Leia hesitated to let Ben go for a half-second. She did, though, and nodded. 

“Leia.” 

“Nice to meet you, Leia. So, I take it it’s been a while since you two have...”

Poe trailed off, gesturing with his hands between the two of them. Something like sadness crossed over Leia’s features, but she righted it quickly, so much so that Rey wasn’t sure if she’d actually witnessed it. 

“The last time I saw him, he was breaking his father’s nose.” 

Rey could feel a tiny pit forming in her stomach as Ben’s eyes widened. His brows furrowed.

“What?” he asked. 

Leia’s smile was warm as she reached up to squeeze his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, honey. I think it looked better after, anyway.” 

It was obvious from Ben’s frown that he _was_ in fact worrying, but Poe didn’t give him the chance to pry any further before he said, “Alright then, now that the gang’s all back together, I’m gonna go ask about your in-home care options. See you for our bike sesh later?” 

Ben nodded distractedly. Poe gave him finger guns in response and then left the room, whistling as he walked. 

The three of them stood in the center of the room, Leia beaming at Ben as he looked between her and Rey. She wanted to jump ship and follow Poe, to give these two a chance to talk about the fact that they, well, _never_ talked. 

“How are you feeling?” Leia asked. 

Ben shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats. “I’m okay. Can’t read very well, but Rey’s helping me get better.” 

Leia’s gaze flitted to Rey’s. Her smile did not fade. “That’s wonderful of you, Rey.” 

Rey swallowed hard, managing some sort of awkward, toothless smile as she nodded. “It’s nothing, really. He, um—Ben makes it easy. He’s improved so much very quickly.” 

Finally, Ben smiled, but it was small, tugging at the corner of his lips. He rocked back and forth on his heels and said, “Should we—should we talk? I’d like to know what you were talking about with dad.” 

Leia let out a deep sigh. “I’m not going anywhere any time soon, sweetheart. Let’s save the heavy stuff for later when we’re all a bit more acquainted, alright?” 

He stared at her for a moment. It looked to Rey like he was contemplating arguing with her, but gave up after a few seconds and exhaled through his nose. “Alright.”

At that, she clapped her hands together and looked back toward the door. “There’s gotta be food somewhere around this place right? I’m starving.” 

“The cafeteria,” Rey piped in. “It’s on this floor. We ate, but,” she turned to look at Ben, who she could tell was still vibrating with nervous energy. “Maybe we could get some coffee?” 

He looked to her and Rey offered him a smile, kinking her eyebrows up as a question and a reassurance all at once. His face softened. 

“Coffee sounds good.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


The coffee was, in fact, good. 

It wasn’t the deli down the street from the firm good, but it was good as far as hospitals went and Rey had no issue with how comforting the warm liquid was as she sat at the table with Ben and Leia. She was next to Ben with Leia across from them, and she could feel the slight tension in Ben’s posture as he sipped his iced latte beside her. 

“So,” Leia said. She set down her large black coffee and started to tear off pieces of a chocolate croissant. “What’s new with you, honey?” 

Rey couldn’t help the slight bewilderment at the question, and it wasn’t until Ben responded that she understood what Leia was doing. 

“Well, besides this,” he pointed at his head, which was no longer bandaged but did have a large bald patch where the surgeons had to cut into him. The sight of it always made Rey a little queasy, thinking about him lying there in the operating room. “School is good, I guess—or at least...it was good.” 

Leia chewed on the pastry as she nodded. “That’s great.” 

After a beat of somewhat awkward silence, Ben shook his head and held out his hands on the table, as if in surrender. “Mom, you don’t have to pretend like nothing’s wrong, okay? I know that I’m not twenty-five and in law school anymore. I know I work at some big-wig firm downtown and I’m apparently not a very nice boss to my assistant,” he tilted his head in Rey’s direction. 

Leia’s easy smile faded and her lips turned into a tight line. “Ben—” 

“Please. I just—I just want to understand. You weren’t here when I woke up—you didn’t come until I asked Rey to call you yesterday—and apparently I broke dad’s nose?” 

She reached forward and held both of her hands in his. The look on her face, though obviously concerned, was warm. For the first time since she’d entered the picture, Rey saw Ben in Leia—there was a soothing, emanating warmth that they both held so naturally. 

“Darling, I promise I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” she said softly, but not without her ever-present confidence. “Just let me get some food in me first.” 

Ben’s nostrils flared. He sat back in his chair, pulling his hands from hers, and nodded. 

Leia returned his nod and started to pick off pieces of her croissant again, taking little sips of her coffee between each bite. Soon, she was done, and she leaned back in her chair. 

“First thing’s first,” she began after wiping off her hands with a napkin, “If the last thing you remember is being in your final year of law school, then it should come as no shock to you that the arguments with your father didn’t just miraculously stop happening out of the blue.” 

Next to her, Rey felt Ben stiffen slightly. He tucked his chin down and nodded again. 

“You were over at the house, and you were both drinking—too heavily, I might add—and he made some inane comment about your future. You know how he is.” 

Ben scoffed. “I know that he likes to make fun of things he doesn’t understand.” 

Leia shrugged, her eyebrows shooting up. “So, is it so outlandish that it finally turned physical, after you two split _two_ twelve-packs?” 

He slowly shook his head. “I guess not. If that’s all that happened.” 

Leia took another big gulp of coffee before nodding. “That’s the cliff’s notes.” 

“Where is he now?” 

Rey watched Leia’s expression transform subtly into something slightly sad. “He couldn’t make it, sweetheart.” 

“Why?” 

Leia sighed. “Well, it’s a long st—” 

“Hello, party people!” Poe cheered as he approached their table, completely oblivious of the heaviness he’d just interrupted. 

Rey turned to look at him to find him beaming. “What are you so smiley about?” she asked.

He leaned forward, almost like he was preparing to tell them a secret. 

“I talked to the boss. Sounds like Benny here can afford any kind of care he wants, including at-home, _and_ he can get an assigned PT if he prefers, which we know he does. Thankfully, you’re the only patient in my charge right now, bud. So, I’m comin’ with ya.” 

Ben relaxed a little, leaning toward Poe. “When can we go?” 

Poe shrugged. “Whenever you want. Apparently, you’ve got a sick ass gym at your place, so we don’t have to lug any equipment over there. The doctor will come by bi-weekly and Maz will be there at night, too, to make sure you’re eating, staying on top of your meds, yadayada.”

He nodded, seeming to consider all of it, and then turned to Rey. “Can we go now?” he asked softly, and it took everything she had not to blurt out the word yes. 

Instead, she smiled gently at him and nodded. “Let’s go get your stuff packed up.” 

* * *

Leia followed them from the facility to Ben’s penthouse apartment downtown. Rey drove her own car, with Ben and all of his belongings in tow. He looked like he was contemplating heavily as he stared out the window, watching as the vast countryside of Takodana slowly morphed into the metropolis that was Coruscant. 

Rey could feel the dozens of questions she refrained from asking sitting on the edge of her tongue as they sat in silence. He’d been through a whirlwind of emotion in such a short period of time—the last thing she wanted to do was jilt him further. 

But that didn’t change the fact that she did want to _know_. 

She wanted to know about his relationship with his father—why it didn’t seem to surprise him that they fought but upset him nonetheless to know that he’d actually _hurt_ him. She wanted to know about his life up to now, about who it was that he thought he was becoming before he diverged so roughly into becoming Kylo Ren. 

She wanted to know if—

“You can ask me, you know,” Ben stated beside her, causing her to jump. 

It’d been so quiet in the car apart from the low buzz of the podcast Rey had switched on ten or so minutes before that hearing his deep baritone voice out of the blue had made her almost squeak in surprise. She let out a deep breath, gripping the steering wheel a little harder as she turned to look at him. 

“Ask you what?” she asked.

“All the questions. You’re a loud thinker, Rey.” 

Rey chewed on the inside of her cheek as she turned back to the road. “Sorry. I just didn’t want to pry or make you feel like you had to tell me anything. You’ve been through a lot today. It’s not even noon.” 

A soft chuckle sounded in Ben’s throat as he leaned his head back against the headrest. “Typical Solo-Organa drama. I should’ve expected nothing less.” 

Rey nodded, and then—all too quickly—she realized then that Leia’s evasiveness in telling him about what happened had left out a very crucial detail: The fight that she’d made out to be so commonplace had actually caused a rift that lasted over a decade. It was—if not the only, then a significant part of—the reason why he’d left the Solo part of him behind. It wasn’t her place to tell him, but it irked her that he was so unaware of the gravity of it all. 

“She seems great, though,” Rey mused, doing her best to keep the conversation light. “A little intimidating, maybe.” 

Ben huffed. “Understatement of the century.” 

“And your dad? What’s he like?” 

He was quiet for a second, rubbing his palms up and down his thighs. “He’s…” Ben shook his head. “He’s gruff. Unprecious. Stubborn. They used to fight like cats and dogs when I was little. Got divorced and remarried by the time I was nineteen.” 

Rey’s eyebrows shot up. “Woah.” 

“Yeah.” 

“I’m sorry, Ben,” Rey said, her eyes glued to the road. “That must’ve been tough.” 

He shrugged. “It is what it is,” he said, turning to face her again. She could see out of the corner of her eye as he looked at her for a few moments before asking, “What about your parents? I feel like you know everything about me and I know..nothing about you.” 

Rey couldn’t help but stiffen a little. It wasn’t something she liked to talk about, and on top of that, the last time she _had_ talked about it, it was with him. That monstrous version of him that existed _somewhere_ within this kind, thoughtful man that she’d come to know. 

It made her almost sick to her stomach, thinking about what he’d said that night. 

“I, um… I never actually met my parents,” she said quietly. 

Ben drew back a little. “What?” 

Rey cleared her throat before nodding. “Yeah, they—they left me at my grandmother’s house when I was a baby and took off. She tried to contact them a lot for the first couple of years, but found out eventually that they both OD’d not long after they left.” 

The silence hung heavy between them as Ben processed her words. It was the first time she’d said them aloud in as long as she could remember; she’d only ever told Finn, years ago.

“Rey, that’s—” he broke off and shook his head. “I’m so sorry.” 

She tapped her fingers lightly against the wheel. She needed something to do with her hands. 

“It is what it is, right?” she said halfheartedly, motioning nonchalantly with her thumbs.

Rey watched his fists clench in his lap. Eventually, he murmured, “You deserved better than that.”

She turned to look at him and saw him staring out the front window with a neutral expression. It was obvious in other places that he was tense, though, like his shoulders and his pale knuckles.

“Thanks, Ben,” she said softly.

They pulled up to his apartment building and Rey parked in a parallel spot near the curb. Ben leaned down to the window to peek up at the towering structure, easily one of the tallest in downtown Coruscant.

“Holy crap,” he uttered next to her.

“Yeah,” Rey breathed. “Pretty sure you’re in the penthouse, too.” 

“You’ve never been here?” 

She turned to look at him as she turned the car off. “Nah. Dropped you off once.” 

Ben nodded slowly before peeking up again and letting out a small breath. Rey hauled his duffel and all of the paperwork he’d received upon leaving the facility and walked into the vast lobby of the building. Behind her, she could hear the doorman greet him. 

“Good to see you, Mr. Ren,” he said firmly. 

Ben stared at him for a few seconds before giving a single nod. He was still in his sweatpants and a standard-issue white tee, and all they’d provided in terms of footwear were a pair of thin slippers that now scraped softly against the pristine tile. 

When they reached the top floor, Rey dug around for his keys in the pocket of the duffel as the doors slid open to reveal a private hallway. _Of course_ , she thought. She should’ve known that it would be the bougiest setup possible. She let them in without much trouble and couldn’t hold back the tiny gasp that escaped her mouth upon walking into his apartment. 

It was incredible. High ceilings, sleek floors, large floor-to-ceiling windows that were lined with a black trim that echoed throughout the space. It was tastefully decorated, though more modern-minimalist than Rey preferred. There was a lot of black, grey and white, and not nearly enough green. The kitchen was massive, complete with a huge island and barstools, and an extremely complicated-looking espresso machine that sat proudly atop one of the counters. 

“This is wild,” Ben muttered beside her. 

Rey nodded, setting the duffle down on the table of the breakfast nook that was off to the left of the kitchen. It was surrounded by gorgeous views of the city, so high up that you could see anything and everything. If she looked hard enough, she could see her and Finn’s apartment complex—a tiny beige dot off in the less desirable parts of the city. 

Minutes later, Leia arrived, breathing a little heavy as she lugged in a tote and parka over her arm. She looked as impressed as they’d been as she surveyed the place, chuckling lightly as she said, “You’ve always had great taste, sweetheart. I just wish there was a little life in here. Maybe an ivy—something low maintenance.” 

Ben shook his head, but he was smiling as he leaned into the island. “I’ll get right on that.” 

“This,” Leia gestured toward the kitchen. “Is just gorgeous. I love all the cabinets. I wonder, though, how long do you think it will take me to find a cup for some ice water?” she mused playfully, looking between the two of them. 

“Oh,” Ben reacted quickly, more quickly than either Rey or Leia could truly grasp, and pushed off the island, walking straight toward the cabinet to the left of the fridge. He opened it without a word and reached for three glasses—no doubt some ridiculously expensive crystal—and then proceeded to fill them all up with ice and water from the fridge with an undeniable ease. Rey and Leia watched it happen with mild shock on their faces, but as he turned to his mother to hand her a glass, it was obvious that he didn’t even realize what had just happened. 

“Lucky guess?” Leia said as she accepted the glass. 

Ben looked at Rey as he handed hers over, then back at his mother. He shrugged. “Guess so.” 

Rey stood stock-still, filled with some level of both fascination and fear. The list of strange coincidences that were starting to occur was only growing. First the talking, then the bad back, now _this_ —moving around this monster of a kitchen with practiced ease, knowing _exactly_ where something was going to be before opening one single cabinet door. 

Leia sipped the water and let out a sigh. “Thank you, sweetheart,” she lifted the glass in Ben’s direction. “Why don’t you go take a shower and wash all that facility air off while Rey and I get settled in?” 

He seemed to consider this for a moment before looking back in the direction of a long hallway. The space was so open that it wouldn’t be hard to navigate, though Rey wasn’t sure that even mattered with how Ben’s muscle memory seemed to know its way around. 

“I can help you get everything started if you—” Rey attempted, but Ben shook his head quickly.

“I didn’t forget how to shower,” he told her, a cocky little smirk on his lips as he grabbed his glass and walked backward toward the hallway. “But thank you.” His smile only grew as he moved further away, and eventually he turned on his heel and disappeared into one of the rooms. 

Rey huffed, his giddy grin mirrored on her face. She turned back to the kitchen to find Leia smirking at her with her arms folded over her chest. 

“What?” Rey asked as she slid into one of the barstools. 

Leia feigned innocence as she pursed her lips and shook her head. “Nothing.” 

The kitchen was big enough that there was plenty of space between them as they settled on either side of the island, and Rey’s thumbs tapped against the marble top as she looked at Ben’s mom with a curious expression. 

“I know it’s not really my business, but are you planning on telling him that this is the first time you’ve seen him in like...years?” she asked frankly. 

The ease in Leia's expression faded slowly. She reached for the edge of the counter, gripping it as she sighed and shook her head. “I want to. I do. I don’t want to hide anything from him.” 

Rey looked at her expectantly. 

She lifted her hands in surrender. “I just got him back, alright? Forgive me if I don’t want to reopen a bunch of old wounds that he doesn’t even _remember_ getting.” 

“I get that. But he deserves to know. If he—” Rey exhaled, looking away from Leia and back to the hallway where Ben had disappeared. “If he doesn’t know the path that led him to become Kylo, he won’t know to avoid it the second time around.” 

Leia’s deep brown eyes—the same ones Ben carried—narrowed as she considered her. “Are you sure you’re just my son’s assistant?” she asked.

Rey smiled sheepishly. “I just—” she echoed Leia’s gesture with her hands before letting them fall back to the counter. “He’s, uh—I think he might be starting to pick up little things. As you saw,” Rey tilted her chin in the direction of the cabinet. Leia nodded, her subtle smile transforming into a line.

“I like who he is now. Who _Ben_ is,” Rey stated. “If we can help him stay that person by telling him the truth, then I think we should.”

“You’re probably right, honey,” Leia remarked mirthfully. “You strike me as the type that’s rarely wrong.” 

Rey scoffed. “Just not the type to admit it, mostly.” 

“Join the club,” Leia huffed. 

They sat in comfortable silence for a brief moment before Leia blew out a breath. “I don’t even know how to start, if I’m being honest. Han—his father, he—” she stopped abruptly, each word looking like an effort to get out. “He actually passed a few years ago. Ben wasn’t there. Didn’t come to the funeral. There were flowers, I think, but I’m not foolish enough to think that it wasn’t his assistant’s doing.” 

Rey’s hand felt instantly clammy. Her cheeks were starting to flush as she listened with wide eyes, trying to process the sudden onslaught of grief that Leia had just laid out in front of her.

“That’s why I called the other night. It was the anniversary, and Ben—” Leia said solemnly, her voice softer than before. “I just wanted to hear his voice. Figured maybe since it was such a weird hour, that I’d get lucky and he’d be worried.” She shook her head, as if disappointed that she’d even considered it to be a possibility. 

Leia looked down at her hands, visibly deflated, and Rey’s heart ached in her chest. 

“So, I don’t know how to start. I don’t know how to tell my son that the reason his father isn’t here to see him is because he died. Or that he didn’t come to the funeral. Or that the last time he ever saw him was after he put him in the hospital—” 

The piercing crash that sounded from the hallway made them jump. They both turned to look in the direction of the harsh sound to find Ben, freshly showered and standing over a pile of broken crystal. His brows knit together and his chest heaved as he stared at his mother. 

Leia and Rey watched, paralyzed with the weight of what had just occurred, as Ben’s knees buckled underneath him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things:
> 
> 1) So... if you saw my preview for this chapter on tumblr or Twitter, you may have noticed that _that_ scene is not actually in this chapter. Let's just say I learned my lesson about previews because I ended up scrapping that entire scene (I really tried to make it work but it just took things to a much heavier place than I wanted to go so early into the chapter). Don't kill me. I will never do such a thing again. 😬
> 
> 2) If you know any songs that you think are fitting to this story, whether in Kylo/Ben's POV or Rey's, send them my way! Comment/tweet/message me on [tumblr](http://earstwo.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](http://twitter.com/taylormaybe) \- I'm trying to pull together a playlist for inspo! 
> 
> Thanks for reading <3 can't wait to know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, y'all! Life has been a little crazy as of late. I hope this chapter makes up for the wait! 
> 
> thanks to heidi, sam & felicia and also tofu for being the enabler that we all need <3

The overhead light gave off a soft, barely audible hum that buzzed through the enclosed space of the bathroom as Rey worked. There was condensation dripping down the large mirror and tiny pools of water scattered over the tile—remnants of the shower that Ben had taken only minutes before his entire world had been hurled off of its axis. 

His face looked as shattered as the pieces of glass in his knee as he sat on the toilet, staring at the rug below his feet with unseeing eyes. Rey peeked up at him every few seconds as she carefully picked out each piece with a pair of tweezers, dropping the tiny, jagged shards into a cup next to her hip. She’d kept her talking to a minimum, letting him sit there, undisturbed, in the deafening silence. Even when she anticipated that he would hiss or wince or yelp as she extracted a particularly large piece, he stayed quiet. 

Rey didn’t know what to do with his grief. Death wasn’t something she was accustomed to; she’d never been close enough with anyone that died to understand even half of what he was feeling. Her grandmother had passed just before she turned three, but she barely remembered her, certainly not enough to feel those latching claws of loss—the ones that seemed to be holding Ben hostage now, leaving him unable to speak or move or really even breathe. 

She finished the job relatively quickly, dabbing the broken skin with hydrogen peroxide-soaked cotton balls from the surprisingly well-stocked medicine cabinet under Ben’s sink. None of the cuts were deep enough to warrant anything beyond a bandaid, so she rubbed them down with Neosporin and covered them, letting her thumb graze the unmarred skin of his inner knee as she pulled her hands back into her lap. 

All the while, Ben looked at the floor. 

He wasn’t crying, but small hiccups still sounded in his throat as his breathing did its best to even out. His hands were idle in his lap, and she was half-sure in that moment that if she got up and left, he wouldn’t have noticed. 

Softly, she said, “All patched up.” 

A small jolt ran through him as his eyes and found hers. He had, perhaps, already forgotten that she was there, tending to his wounds in the heavy quiet. 

Ben’s jaw clenched, and his fists mirrored the action. “Thanks,” he said roughly, his voice nowhere near the smooth, rumbling thing that she’d grown used to. It was broken, barely there—just like him.

A small, nearly inaudible knock sounded and then the bathroom door creaked open slowly, revealing Leia on the other side. She poked her head in and her eyes looked wild, but when they landed on Ben, they softened immediately. Her face was knit with overwhelming concern for her son, for the bomb that she’d just unintentionally dropped into his lap. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” she said gently, holding onto tightly to the doorknob.

The smile that Ben gave her in return was there and gone so quickly that Rey nearly missed it. Like a faint pull at the corners of his mouth, an echo of an expression he was incapable of mustering. 

“I think we should talk. Maybe we can sit on the terrace?” 

He seemed to consider this for a moment, rubbing his lips together as he looked at her. He turned to Rey a few seconds later and kinked an eyebrow. An invitation, probably, which Rey responded to with a soft squeeze to his ankle. 

“I’m gonna make us some dinner,” Rey stated. “I think you two need some time.” 

“Thank you, Rey,” Leia said. “That’s very sweet of you.” 

She stood in the doorway for a minute before nudging her head in the direction of the patio.

“I’ll be out there when you’re ready, baby.” 

Rey turned back to Ben and watched as he stared at the doorway, now empty of his mother’s presence. She was sitting cross-legged on the bathroom rug, which felt more like memory foam than her actual mattress, and when he finally looked back down at her, his eyebrows knit together and it looked, for a moment, like he was going to cry. 

He didn’t. But his eyes, his mouth, his cheeks—everything he could use to express the turmoil that must’ve been swirling around inside—were alight. She could see it all written over his features, so wrought with shock and confusion and an undeniable _hurt._

Rey stood, grunting with the effort, and moved slightly closer to him. Ben slowly picked up his chin so he could keep looking at her, and without letting herself think too much of it, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her hand found the back of his head as she let her lips rest at the juncture between his neck and shoulder, and her thumb traced idly over his hair.

She felt his exhale—it was deep enough that she moved with him. His arms wrapped around her waist slowly, his movements unsure and tentative but Rey just pushed closer to him, pulling him even further into her. She didn’t know if this was the standard protocol for supporting someone that was grieving, but she couldn’t _not_ hold him after seeing that look on his face. Like the life he thought he knew, that he thought he’d woken up in, had been ripped away from him, leaving him bloody and unfinished. Like every bone was splintering and he couldn’t cry out. 

Ben’s fingers dug into Rey’s waist as they stood there, wrapped around each other so tightly that their breaths were nearly in tune with each other. Rey made a point to take each one deep and slow, and she felt a surge of relief when he started to echo. 

It could’ve been minutes, or hours, or even days that they held each other. Rey wouldn’t have been able to say anything definitively—she was too caught up in how his shoulders seemed to be leaking the tension that had kept them so tight, how his grip was softer now around her body and he’d started to rub his thumbs over the material of her t-shirt. 

Eventually, she pulled back, not paying any mind to the way Ben’s hands stayed in place, and said, “C’mon. I’ll help you outside. These might sting when you stand,” she said, gesturing to his bandaged knees with her chin. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


For all that Ben’s apartment had going for it, it was completely lacking when it came to food. 

The telltale signs of bachelor living were all over his nearly-barren pantry and fridge: a few half-full boxes of cereal (the boring kind, too—like _unfrosted_ Shredded Wheat and Life), peanut butter, some bougie jelly in a glass jar with a top that looked like a picnic blanket, and lastly, the pièce de résistance, a rotisserie chicken in a plastic container that was definitely past its prime. Rey wrinkled her nose at the smell, promptly shutting the fridge door before rapidly starting to open cabinets in search of a bin.

This part—the helping—came easy to her. When Finn’s grandmother died their sophomore year, she’d gone with him to the funeral and the wake. His entire family was there, weeping and trading stories about her, and Rey had found comfort in helping his aunt in the kitchen as she cooked for what could’ve been a small army. It was something to do with her hands. Something to keep her feet moving so she didn’t have time to stop and think about what was actually happening. 

It made sense that she’d find herself right back in the kitchen now, as the lingering scent of death and sadness permeated the air. If she could keep herself busy, she could keep all of that raw, unfiltered pain as far away as possible. 

After a rather arduous search, she found two bins side by side that rolled out from a cabinet next to the fridge. One looked to be recycling, so she chucked a cardboard milk carton into it after dumping out the extremely questionable looking insides. She was on her way to dumping the godforsaken poultry into the trash when her phone buzzed in her pocket. 

It wasn’t the nice, brief buzz of a text, either. It was the long, incessant one that accompanied a phone call. Rey sighed, setting the chicken in the trash with a soft _thump_ before digging into her back pocket. When she saw the lock screen lit up with the caller’s name, her stomach dropped.

Immediately, she turned on her heel, looking toward the terrace for any sign of if Ben and Leia were close to coming back in, but they were still seated. She could see their silhouettes through the frosted glass—Leia leaned forward with her elbows on her knees and Ben slumped over, his head in his hands. A pang of sorrow shot through her stomach as she looked at him.

Then the phone buzzed again in her palm. She sighed as she pressed it to her ear, shutting her eyes in anticipation for whatever waited for her on the other side. 

“This is Rey.” 

She could hear him sniff. “Well, I should hope so,” Palpatine responded, his voice unsurprisingly harsh and unpleasant.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Palpatine?” she asked calmly. 

“It’s been a few days, Miss Niima. I would like a progress report, if it’s not too much trouble,” he declared. It seemed diplomatic on the surface but his tone, as ominous and unsettling as it always was, let her know that she couldn’t _really_ opt out.

Rey cleared her throat, eyes still on the sulking figures outside. “He’s doing well. Reading and comprehension are far beyond what they expected. Nearly walking on his own, but still working with a physical therapist.” 

“I see,” the man breathed. Rey could just picture him, sitting at his desk with his shriveled up, pale finger against his lips as he listened to her with that unnervingly sadistic smirk he always had. “And how is the facility in Takodana? To your liking, I hope.” 

“Oh—” Rey stuttered, clamping her lips shut as she considered what _exactly_ she wanted to tell him. After a brief pause, she finished with, “We actually brought him home earlier today.” 

“We?” he asked tightly. 

Rey swallowed. “Ben’s mother and me.” 

Palpatine was quiet on the other end for several moments, and Rey was seconds away from muttering a nervous _hello_ when he finally spoke again. 

“Did you even look at the file I provided you at the beginning of this assignment, Miss Niima?” 

“I did, but then he asked me to call her and Ben—” 

His voice was as thunderous as she’d ever heard it be when he interrupted her. “ _Kylo Ren,_ ” he boomed, “had explicit instructions for what his company would need to do should any harm ever befall him. And yet, you decided that you were at liberty to defy those instructions?” 

It was venomous, the way he spoke to her. The disdain was so potent that she could almost taste it. 

“I’m sorry, sir, I just thought that it would help him to see a famili—” 

“Young lady,” he was quieter now, menacingly so. It sent a chill down Rey’s spine. “From this point on, if you so much as _think_ about deviating from the plan again, I will make good on Kylo’s promise to black ball you throughout Coruscant. And, my dear, if you think _he_ has reach, you’re in for a rude awakening. I won’t just blackball you here. I’ll blackball you everywhere. You’ll be back to begging on the streets by thirty if I have any say.” 

Rey’s nostrils flared. The hammering heart in her chest was thumping just as violently in her ears and she felt slightly lightheaded. She reached for the edge of the island for purchase, her fist clenching tightly around the cold marble as he started to speak again. 

“You have one job and one job only, girl. Get me Kylo Ren back. Cease your nurturing of Ben Solo immediately; he is of no importance to me or this firm. I don’t care how long it takes.” 

The three soft beeps sounded in the speaker and Rey’s eyes slid closed, fat tears slipping down her cheeks as she breathed in and out deeply through her mouth. 

It felt like the verge of panic, but she was toeing the line haphazardly, not quite falling into a full blown attack. Rey saw flashes of various scenes as she squeezed her eyes tighter—her first foster mother painting a Christmas tree on the wall because they couldn’t afford even a plastic one, a can of baked beans for dinner split between her and her two foster siblings, sitting on the dingy carpet of her fourth apartment in two years. The rumble in her stomach when she went to school without lunch money for the third week in a row. The clench in her heart when she got a full ride to college, knowing it was the only ticket out of the hell that was her childhood.

She couldn’t go back there. She wouldn’t. Her instincts for self-preservation were well-honed and sharper than they should’ve been given the fact that her life wasn’t in constant peril anymore, and they were screaming at her to listen, to obey him outright, to save herself from the inevitable fall back to the bottom of the pit where she grew up. 

But there was something else there, too, right on the edge of her worry and fear. 

Something Rey couldn’t deny, as much as the perpetually hungry scavenger in her wanted her to look away from it, to veer toward the path that offered the bigger reward. 

Something just beneath the surface of all of her sinister, self-destructive thoughts. 

Compassion. 

Kindness. 

Hope, too, which was new and unpracticed but there still, beating in time with her pounding heart. 

All these good, warm things, swirling around with everything cold and dreadful that threatened to pull her beneath the surface. Perhaps she and Ben had more in common than she thought. 

Rey glanced outside once again and watched them for a moment, their figures unmoving for the most part, save for Leia’s lips as she spoke to her son. The tears felt thicker now as she cried them, attempting to understand what it would even mean to stop nurturing Ben when such a task had, in a matter of minutes, become her entire life. 

It was simple, really, the more she thought about it. 

It would mean no longer being kind to him for the sake of being kind. It would mean no more shy smiles; no more careful, unsure touches that meant to comfort. No more giggling; no more of him looking to her for reassurance and support. No more getting to know him as Ben. 

No more Ben at all, if Palpatine could have his way. 

The thought made Rey shudder. She gripped her phone tightly in her hand, the shattered screen protector pinching into her skin, and the pain brought her back to herself somewhat, letting her rational brain finally speak.

She wasn’t his family, didn’t owe him anything, but as she stood there in the middle of the kitchen, watching them, she knew down to her bones that she would never be able to give up on him.

Perhaps it was the way he looked at her, like she knew the answers to all of his questions. Maybe it was the way he always considered her, never letting her be anything close to an afterthought. 

Perhaps it was because she knew—with sudden, unwavering clarity—that if the situation were reversed, he wouldn’t give up on her, either. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Rey certainly hadn't meant to fall asleep on the couch and collect an impressively large puddle of drool on what could only be top of the line Italian leather, but when they rounded hour four and the sun had started to set, she hadn’t been able to fight her drooping eyelids any longer.

The smooth slide of the back door opening woke her, and when she shot up, she noticed the puddle—thankfully—before either of them made it fully into the living room. They both looked exhausted as they approached her. If they noticed her bed head or her tired eyes, neither felt it necessary to comment. 

“I ordered pizza,” Rey mumbled, pointing toward the kitchen. “It’s in the fridge now. I also went to the market and picked up a few things. The pantry and fridge were...very sparse.”

“I’m not hungry,” Ben said quietly, looking at her with the saddest eyes she’d ever seen. “But thanks for doing that.”

“Coffee?” Leia offered, teaching out a soft hand to Ben’s shoulder.

Ben shook his head. “I think I’ll just,” he turned around, eyeing the massive television that hung on the far wall. It was big enough that Rey didn’t have to squint to read the subtitles as she watched an old episode of Game of Thrones. “Maybe I’ll watch TV with Rey,” he stated.

Rey sat up a little straighter on the couch, pulling the throw blanket further into her lap. “Oh,” she started, “of course, yeah. This is, uh—“ she pointed at the screen, which showcased the description of the episode she’d fallen asleep to. “This was one of your favorites, I think.”

“Too many people for me to keep up with, personally,” Leia piped in, looking somewhat cheerful. She looked between Ben and Rey and let out a deep breath. “I think I’m gonna turn in a bit early. Maybe try out that claw foot in the guest bathroom.”

Ben nodded and leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his mother’s cheek before returning to his full height. Leia squeezed his bicep and her smile was a comforting thing, even to Rey, who sat ten feet away and wasn’t the intended target.

“I love you, Ben. I truly, truly do,” she said with a conviction that Rey had only ever seen in a courtroom.

He smiled slowly and nodded again. “I know, mom,” he breathed, and placed one of his massive hands over the tiny one still holding his arm. “Me, too.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


They made it through about two minutes of the pilot episode before Ben started asking questions.

They were quiet at first, short and sweet, like “Is this a scary show or something?” when the White Walkers first appeared in the intro, and “Oh, it’s like a _magic_ show?” when the Starks first discovered the direwolf pups.

As he got more comfortable—and more distracted, she assumed—they became more involved and increased in frequency.

“Are we just supposed to ignore the fact that none of those children look like the king? Or is that a known thing?” 

“Remind me who Jon Arryn is again?”

“Is Tyrion supposed to be a bad guy? I like him too much for him to be a bad guy.”

Rey answered them all. She didn’t get annoyed or impatient with him, not only because she’d seen the pilot episode of Game of Thrones at least five times _and_ had read the books, but also because it was the first time that day that Ben didn’t look like he was about to burst into tears.

She ate the cold pizza and left the crusts in the box and drank one of the Diet Coke cans she’d gotten from the bodega and, after a long while, watched with silent glee as Ben reached forward to grab a slice for himself. 

Eventually, between the two of them, they demolished one and a half of the boxes, and both practically fell back onto opposite sides of the couch, Ben’s long legs sprawled out over the large chaise lounge and Rey’s feet propped up on the back pillows as she lay across the longer end.

Episode two was about to start when Rey realized that Ben hadn’t asked a question in a while. She looked over and felt a warmth seep into her when she found him asleep, softly snoring with his head drifting to one side. His arms were folded over his chest tightly, and she stood up immediately to place the throw she’d been snuggling with over his body. It was _just_ big enough to cover his arms and legs, but left his feet bare. 

Rey figured it was as good a time as any to head home before it got too late; the subway was never fun after ten p.m. She tiptoed around quietly to gather her bag and keys, then walked over to the front door to slip on her flip flops. Her hand was on the doorknob when Ben's voice stopped her movement. 

“Thank you, by the way,” he said, voice heavy with sleep.

Rey turned on her heel. “For what?” she asked softly.

Ben held her eyes for a moment, and then, “For everything. For being here. For helping me the way you have the past few days. I’m sure all of this,” he paused, looking away from her. “Isn’t exactly in the job description.”

She considered him for a beat and then gave him a small shrug. “Maybe you’re more than just a job,” she replied, and found that she meant it; it had slipped off her tongue without any second thoughts.

His eyes looked undeniably lighter at her words. The smile that spread slowly across his lips was like a surging blast of hot air, coating her inside and out and thawing out the painful cold of the day. 

“See you tomorrow, Rey.”

Rey nodded and resumed turning the knob. “Tomorrow.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upped the chapter count as things aren't progressing as quickly as I'd originally planned, but that's okay! 
> 
> Hope you all like this one. :) 
> 
> Thank you to the beta squad for the first half of this story! Everything else is unbetaed because I'm impatient and wanted to get an update out, so forgive me for any mistakes. <3

When Rey arrived the next morning, Maz was already there. 

It was a bit of a relief knowing that someone else would be around to cook meals and administer Ben’s medication, especially considering Rey could barely manage to keep toast from burning most days.

It was over a lunch of cold cuts that Leia gently suggested that a bit of physical activity might do Ben some good, to which he’d reluctantly agreed, all the while deconstructing his sandwich in an effort to remove the tomato. 

Rey only half listened as Leia pulled out her phone to call Poe. She was more interested in eyeing Ben as he pushed the thick red slice far away from the rest of his food. It was another item on the list that Rey kept of Kyloisms that had broken through the barrier of Ben’s injury; his taste in coffee had certainly shifted dramatically, now more inclined to order a sickly-sweet Frappuccino than an americano, but his distaste for tomatoes was, evidently, still very much intact. 

Poe arrived a few hours after they finished eating, but his usual boisterousness was tempered. It seemed Leia had warned him of the situation at hand, though his ever-kind and bright smile had not waned. He and Ben walked together slowly to the home gym down the hall, Poe’s hand rubbing gently at Ben’s back. It didn’t surprise Rey in the slightest that Poe seemed to know exactly how to handle the situation; he seemed to take everything in stride. 

From the long, wide chaise lounge of the leather couch, Leia watched them retreat with eyes full of worry. It was quiet in the living room as they sat, the only sound the faint echo of Maz opening and closing kitchen cabinets as she put clean dishes away. 

“You doing alright?” Rey asked. 

The question seemed to startle Leia, jolting her back to the present. She turned to look at Rey and offered a small, flat-line smile. 

“I’m good, honey,” she assured, turning her body to face Rey’s and folding her hands in her lap. 

Rey sat up a little straighter. “Look, I know it’s not really any of my business, but—”

Leia’s smile turned to a knowing one. “It went about as well as I expected it to.” 

“Did you—” Rey pursed her lips. “Did you tell him about the falling out? The daily voicemails?” 

A long, quiet moment passed between them as Leia considered her. Eventually, she let out a deep, heavy sigh. “I told him everything. As gently as I could.” 

Rey’s chest tightened. No wonder it had taken them four hours. 

She nodded slowly, her chin dropping as she looked at her hands, thinking about how Ben must’ve felt, finally learning the truth about the non-existent relationship he had with his parents. 

“I know you must be curious,” Leia mused, causing Rey to look up and meet her eyes again. “It’s been a bit of a whirlwind since I arrived.” 

Rey shook her head quickly. “You don’t have to—”

Leia put up a gentle hand and said “It’s alright. I’ll give you the abridged version over coffee.” 

When they stepped out on the terrace together with their lattes in hand, Rey gasped, eyes wide with wonder at the space. It was almost as beautiful as the view, pristinely decorated with soft-looking charcoal couches littered with white and light-grey throw pillows, a swing, and an entire outdoor kitchen and eating area. The large, embellished wood table was just near the edge, and Rey’s mouth hung open as they took their seats, the view breathtaking and easily the best one she’d ever seen of the city with her own two eyes. 

“It’s so beautiful out here,” she murmured breathily. Across from her, Leia chuckled. 

“My son is apparently not one to spare any expense.” 

They each took a sip of their drink and then Leia set the tiny cup on its saucer and took in a heavy breath through her nose. 

“After Ben put his father in the hospital, things got...ugly,” she stated, tapping her neatly-polished fingers against the ceramic cup. “We were angry. My husband especially. This kind of behavior—it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. He used to get so angry; he would break things, punch walls, crash cars, you name it. We had him in counseling when he was still at home, but once he left for college, he started missing appointments, making up excuses, whatever he could to get out of it. After that, every visit was like—it was like each time they were together, there was a ticking clock somewhere, inching closer and closer to the breaking point.” 

She reminisced with her shoulders hunched and her eyes cast downward at her half-empty latte. More than anything else, Leia sounded sad. She shook her head, folding her lips together into a line before continuing. 

“That night was the breaking point. For all of us. Once Han was out of the hospital, we told Ben we weren’t going to pay for his school anymore. His college fund was on hold indefinitely until he could sort himself out. And my brother, Luke, who’d offered him an extremely coveted spot at his nonprofit firm, rescinded the offer to...well, I don’t know. To stand in solidarity with us, I guess.” 

Rey nodded slowly. “That—” 

_That must have been awful for him—_ is what she wanted to say, what her first instinct was, but she swallowed it and cleared her throat. “That couldn’t have been easy. I’m sorry.” 

Leia offered her a small smile. “It wasn’t. And it only got harder when Snoke rode in on his white horse and offered Ben a position at Palpatine’s firm. After that we…” she looked down at her hands again, and Rey watched as they shook ever so slightly. “Well, you know the rest, I suppose. He shut us out completely after that. Ignored our calls, refused to see us when we tried to visit.” 

The puzzle of Kylo Ren made more and more sense the more Leia unpacked. Ben had gone from feeling everything on a level that even he likely didn’t understand, to shutting it all out in lieu of being heartbroken. Even if she disagreed wholeheartedly with his methods, Rey could relate to his reasons. Self-preservation, numbing the real hurt so that she could live her life without constantly breaking down, was something she knew all too well. 

Rey sat back in her chair and looked up at Leia. She was looking out at the view, her expression impassive as she breathed deeply. 

“He’s starting to remember things,” Rey said softly. 

Without looking back to her, Leia nodded. “I know.” 

“Do you think he’ll—” Rey swallowed. “Do you think he’ll stop...being Ben again?” The fear in her voice surprised even her, and it was enough to make Leia turn back to look at her curiously. 

“I don’t think so, sweetheart,” she said gently. A subtle, knowing little smirk lifted the corner of her mouth. “He’s got you in his corner this time.” 

* * *

They enjoyed the terrace for an hour or so, the sun slowly sinking in the sky as Leia shared happier stories with Rey about Ben’s childhood, like the time when Han taught him how to drive and he nearly took out a whole street of mailboxes. She was about to launch into an embarrassing one about Ben’s not-so-secret Lego collection and how much he sold it for when he left for college only to be cut off by the sound of the sliding patio door. 

Poe was nearly tiptoeing as he stepped out onto the terrace and made his way toward them, his expression melancholic at best. It looked strange, out of place on his usually bright face.

“I think we’re done for today, team,” Poe murmured as he took a seat next to Rey. “We did some walking on the treadmill and spent some time on the bike but he uh—” his face drifted back to the apartment, his lips forming into a line. “He’s tired. Really tired, I think.” 

Across from them, Leia sniffed, shutting her eyes for a brief moment. 

“I can imagine why,” she remarked, her jaw clenching as she spoke. “He had a god-awful night terror last night. I haven’t seen one that bad since he was a kid.” 

Rey’s eyes cut to Leia quickly. “He did?” 

She nodded solemnly. “Broke a lamp in his bedroom, the poor thing. And if they’re anything like the episodes he used to have, he definitely didn’t go back to sleep after.” 

Rey’s nostrils flared, her fists forming into tight balls in her lap. She struggled to process the information, already trying to think of ways she could prevent such an incident from occurring again, and when she looked up, Leia was looking at her with a curious expression. 

“Keep it low-key tonight,” Poe suggested, holding his hand up. “Get some food in him, maybe a romcom, I don’t know. I’ll check in with you guys tomorrow.” 

“Thanks, Poe,” Leia said, nodding at him as he stood and made his way back toward the door. 

When they were alone again, Rey found Leia’s eyes. 

“Sounds like Maz might be starting dinner,” Leia said, gaze drifting to the sunset. Rey’s eyes followed, taking a moment of reprieve to stare at the sky. The multitude of colors that streaked the evening Coruscantian sky were as beautiful as they were chaotic, a chiaroscuro of the darkening night and the dying day meeting harshly in the middle. 

It made her think of Ben. The two warring sides of this man that had so quickly become the center of her universe. 

All Rey had ever known was the end result of the string of events that led to the creation of Kylo Ren, and though nothing so tragic or harmful was an excuse to be as cruel as he’d been to her and others in the past, Rey couldn’t help but empathize with him. She knew, better than anyone, what loneliness could do to a person. 

If she hadn’t gotten out of Jakku when she did, there was no telling what kind of life she’d be leading. No telling what kind of unspeakable acts she’d commit just to feel something besides the endless emptiness. 

After a beat, Leia let out a breath. “Let’s go get washed up,” she stated, but in a way that carried more weight than a simple command. It bore the understanding that had occurred between the two of them on the terrace under the deep blue and bright pink hues of the sky, even if neither had vocalized one.

Together, they would protect Ben from everything awful and painful that had hurt him so fiercely in the past. Together, they would never let Ben be alone again. 

* * *

Rey washed her hands in the hallway bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror for a moment before attempting to fix her unruly hair. It had always been a bit thin and stringy, and she found herself trying to liven it up by pushing her hands through it. She splashed cold water onto her face and sighed with relief when she stood up, feeling somehow remarkably lighter now for knowing Ben’s story in a way that she never had before. 

A delicious smell permeated the air as Rey approached the kitchen, accompanied by a low murmur of concerned voices echoing down the hallway. Her flip flops tapping against the marble tile gave her away and Leia and Maz, who stood shoulder-to-shoulder in front of the large island, both turned quickly to look at her. 

“Oh, good,” Maz sighed as she held out both of her hands and grasped Rey’s elbows. “I’m glad you’re here, love. Maybe you can actually get him to eat something.” 

Rey’s eyes flitted to Leia, who shrugged. “No dice.” 

Maz shook her head. “We’ve all tried. Even Poe before he left. Kid claims he’s ‘not hungry’ but I _know_ how much of his lunch he ate. Here,” she turned toward the counter to pick up an elaborate looking tray of food, complete with a bowl of delicious-smelling chili and a pile of perfectly golden cornbread, still steaming from where it had been cut open and smeared with butter. “You try.” 

Rey’s mouth hung open as she took the tray, unable to really even attempt to argue with the small, bullish woman in front of her, who was already shooing her off down the hall toward Ben’s room. 

Maz followed her down the hall and knocked quickly on the door when they arrived, sparing not even a second before she twisted the knob and opened the door for Rey, gently pushing her into the room by the elbow. 

It was the first time she’d ever been inside of Ben’s bedroom. There were floor-to-ceiling windows on every wall and not a spec of color that wasn’t black, white or grey. The room itself was bigger than her entire apartment, and Rey couldn’t help but gape a little as she looked around, her mouth only snapping shut when her eyes landed on the bed in the center of the far wall. 

On Ben. 

He was sitting up, leaning against his headboard and staring out of the window to his left with a somber expression. Behind her, Rey heard the soft click of the door shutting. She exhaled and walked forward, keeping her hands as steady as she could so she wouldn’t spill chili all over the pristine floor. 

When she reached the foot of his California king, Ben finally turned to look at her. 

“Hi,” she breathed, gript tightening on the tray handles. 

Ben’s face softened and the corners of his lips tugged up ever-so-slightly. “Hey.” 

“Hungry?” she asked hopefully, eyebrows shooting up. 

His face fell a little as his eyes drifted to the tray. “Maz sent you, I’m guessing.” 

Carefully, Rey set the tray down near the middle of the bed and gently climbed onto the vacant side, tucking her feet under her as she grabbed a piece of cornbread. 

“She said you barely ate your lunch,” Rey murmured before shoving it into her mouth, eyes closing slowly as the buttery flavor overtook her senses. It was warm and soft and moist, not grainy like most cornbreads she’d tried. “Ohmagah,” Rey garbled, her words barely comprehensible as she tried to speak around the food in her mouth. “Thihisahmazing.” 

Ben lifted an eyebrow as he stared at her, his head tilting slightly. “I didn’t get any of that.” 

Rey chewed faster and eventually swallowed with a large, satisfied gulp. “That,” she stated, pointing at the rest of the cornbread on the plate. “Is amazing.” 

Slowly, Ben reached forward and grabbed a small piece that was slathered in butter. When he popped it into his mouth and chewed slowly, Rey smiled with glee as she watched his face shift into the pure amazement that she’d just experienced herself. 

“Youaresurigh,” Ben attempted as he stuffed another piece into his mouth. “Thih _is_ hmazing.” 

“Bet it’ll go even better with some of that,” she replied, nudging her chin in the direction of the chili. Ben leaned forward hesitantly and eyed it. Rey tried not to pay too close attention as he considered the meal, and instead started looking around for a remote for the television she _knew_ lived somewhere in the monstrous room. 

“If I were a remote, where would I be,” she said in a quiet, sing-songy voice as she looked around. “Aha!” she cheered, reaching for the plastic device that lay in the second drawer of one of the bedside tables. When she pressed the power button, what happened next was something truly unparalleled in its dramatics. A wondrous display of just how ridiculous Kylo Ren was when it came to having _only_ top-of-the-line electronics in his home.

Slowly, from seemingly nowhere, a large, at least 50-inch television started to emerge from the floor. It was far enough away from the bed that they wouldn’t have to squint, but not so close that the lights would be harsh. 

“Holy shit,” Rey said, eyes wide as the television came to its full height.

“Huh,” Ben huffed beside her. When Rey looked back to him, she was pleased to see him cradling the bowl of chili in one hand, a spoonful of the thick soup in his other. 

“Thrones?” she asked, lips pursed. 

The thumping that started happening within her chest at Ben’s big, toothy grin was something she couldn’t ignore. It was hard and heavy enough to make her smile right back, a newly adopted instinct that she could no longer suppress. His happiness was important to her.

Rey flipped through the apps until she found the one she wanted and embarked on finding the spot they left off at the night before. 

The intro music echoed loudly through the surround sound system that hung around them, and Rey could hear the sound of Ben’s contented sigh in tandem with the violins. 

When he was finished eating, he set the tray aside and leaned back against the pillows, his hands cradled over his belly. Rey relaxed a bit herself, leaning back and kicking off her shoes. She wiggled around a little to try and get comfortable, and she could see Ben staring at her from the corner of her eye. When she turned to meet his gaze, he’d already looked back toward the television. 

It only took an episode-and-a-half before he was sound asleep. 

Rey watched his face as the lights from the show flickered over his features, soft in sleep but still hard and angular in some places. His nose and jaw, so strong in their structure and his brow, ever furrowed and intimidating. But then there were his lips, soft and pink and so unlike the rest of him, slightly parted as he let out quiet, steady breaths. 

She reached for the remote and muted the show, but didn’t make to leave this time. When Ben’s eyes flickered open as Rey climbed under the thick comforter, she just stared, not entirely sure of what she was doing. All she knew was that if she left him, Ben would likely have another night terror, and he’d wake up alone. Again. The thought made her shudder. 

“I can go,” she said, frozen in place, halfway under the blanket. “I just—your mother told me you had a bad night last night. I thought maybe if I stayed it—” 

“Please,” Ben whispered, turning his body to face hers. The blue light that encased the room made his skin glow and darkened his already-raven hair. “Stay. Stay with me.” 

Rey let her head slowly fall to the pillow. “Okay,” she said as she laid her cheek against her hands.

She was facing him fully then, and all she could think about was how much she hoped that he could see her smile in the darkness. 

  
  
  
  



	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoooooooboy, I am SO sorry for taking so long to update this. I can't believe it's been over two months. Life happened, obviously, and I also experienced some next-level writer's block that was extremely hard to break through. 
> 
> Thankfully, my amazing friend Caitlin graciously accepted when I asked her to be a sounding board for me in an _attempt_ to revive my inspiration for this story, and it worked! 
> 
> I've rewritten parts of the outline that I felt were weak and added a few new bits that I think you all will really enjoy. 
> 
> So, in summary, huge shout out to her for being an A+ friend.
> 
> I hope you guys like this chapter. It's the longest one yet. :) 
> 
> Let me know what you think here or come hang with me on [Twitter!](http://twitter.com/taylormaybe)

At 7:45 a.m., as it did every weekday morning, Rey’s alarm began to blare. 

At 7:45 a.m., as _she_ did every weekday morning, Rey grunted toward the device, reaching blindly and angrily for the button that would silence the unpleasant, incessant foghorn. 

Only this morning, unlike every other weekday morning, she didn’t get very far. The alarm kept going off; it seemed to get louder the more seconds that passed, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t move her arm toward the nightstand. 

It wasn’t until the heaviness of a full night’s sleep had started to wear away that she realized her limb was being pinned down by something _heavy._

It took about another ten seconds to realize that the heavy thing was Ben. 

He was snoring softly—completely, utterly oblivious to the alarm, and he was directly on top of her. All six feet, two-hundred pounds of him. His unruly hair was spread out on her chest where his head lay unmoving and Rey could see only the tip of his nose and just a sliver of his blush-colored lips. His left hand had secured her forearm in its grip, holding the limb against the mattress in the strangest demonstration of sleep-strength she’d ever witnessed. 

The alarm was still screaming. Rey remembered herself quickly once the shock at their proximity had worn off, and she murmured a soft, “Ben,” in his direction after failing miserably to flip him onto the other side of the bed. 

He started to stir, but it was temporary. Not only did he not wake, he snuggled further into her chest, and Rey’s eyes shot wide open when he nuzzled against the material of her grey camisole. She’d taken her bra off at some point during the night, and it sat now, strewn haphazardly on the floor, mocking her with all of its protective, supportive glory. 

When he actually _sighed_ against her sternum, Rey reached up with the arm that wasn’t trapped and nudged his shoulder. “Ben,” she said again, a little louder this time. 

At that, finally, he picked up his head, looking at her still somewhere between sleeping and waking. Confused and boyish, all narrowed eyes and puffy lips. Rey’s heart couldn’t help but do a little leap at the sight of him. 

It wasn’t like she didn’t know he was attractive; all of the women at Palpatine & Associates _knew_ that Kylo Ren was attractive—devilishly so. But his looks weren’t so staggering that they could make up for the fact that, to Rey and many others, he was a complete prick. 

But now, as he looked at her with glossy, honeyed eyes and tangled waves somehow perfectly framing his face, she realized something. Ben Solo was so much more than how women described Kylo— _hot_ or _sexy_ or an “overgrown tree that needed climbing”. 

Ben Solo was beautiful. 

Rey was a little too caught up in counting the moles that dotted his pale skin to realize that his eyes were widening with panic as he realized just how close they’d gotten during the night.

“Shit, shit, shit, Rey, shit,” he stammered, rolling off of her so quickly that she barely had time to register what was happening. “I don’t know how that happened—I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—” 

Rey sat up, hastily reaching for the stupid phone to her right with her newly freed hand and finally shutting off the alarm with a strong tap to the glass screen. A wonderful, welcomed silence entered the room, interrupted only by Ben, who was breathing heavily and sitting about as far away from her as he could on the king-sized mattress. 

“It’s okay,” Rey replied truthfully, shaking her head at him. “Seriously, don’t apologize.” 

“You must think I’m such a creep,” Ben shook his head, eyes closing tightly. “Asking you to stay here and then groping you, I—” 

“Hey,” Rey launched herself onto her knees, crawling toward Ben as he placed his head regretfully in his hands. She reached for his wrists, pulling them gently away from his face. “I don’t think you’re a creep, Ben. I think you’re very _heavy,_ and, for all intents and purposes, an absolute _furnace_ , but not a creep.” 

The tension started to visibly leak from his face, and Rey released his hands from her grip.

“You sure?” he asked sheepishly, and she resisted the urge to pull him toward her. 

Instead, she opted for a soft, “Yes, I’m sure,” and reassuring, closed-lipped smile. 

They sat on the bed for a few seconds before Rey’s phone began to sound off again, but this time with a different, less unbearable tune. It was a call, and when she recognized the ringtone, her eyes stayed on Ben as she said, “That’s Finn. Probably just making sure I’m not dead.” 

He chuckled breathily as Rey reached for her phone. She stood up from the bed as she answered it, passing by Ben and giving his shoulder a squeeze as she exited his room. 

“I’m fine,” Rey exclaimed, in lieu of a traditional greeting. “I’m fine. Sorry.” 

“ _Dude_. What happened?” Finn sounded perturbed, but not angry with her. There was no doubt in her mind that this conversation would not end without him bugging her once again to share her location so that situations _just like this_ could be avoided. 

“I spent the night at Ben’s. He’s, umm—he’s been having night terrors. It’s easier for him when I’m here,” Rey explained, stopping once she reached the kitchen island and pushing herself onto one of the stools. The leather was cold against her skin and she hissed as she leaned her elbows against the marble. 

The other line was quiet for a few seconds before Finn breathed out a sigh, punctuated with a “Huh.” 

“Yeah. I’m okay though.” 

“Well, I’m glad to hear it. You know, we wouldn’t be having this conversation if—” Finn began, earning an eye roll from her as she spun herself around slowly on the stool.

“How many times do I have to tell you,” Rey interrupted swiftly. “I don’t _want_ to turn Location Services on. Not for you, not for anyone. I don’t want the government to know where I am all the time, tracking me and looking into my bank accounts and my search history and—” 

A knock sounded at the door, causing her to jump. She pushed off the stool to let Maz in and was muttering something about Instagram's creepy ads when she opened the door and saw that it was definitely, positively not Maz Kanata on the other side. 

It was Snoke. 

He looked like a predator let loose from his shackles with the way he stared at her, cataloging her shock as she gripped the phone so tightly she nearly shut the thing off. 

“Rey?” she heard Finn say, but he sounded like he was lightyears away. Muffled and foggy and barely-there. 

“Mr. Snoke,” Rey stated as he gave her a once-over, a judgemental eyebrow quirked up all the while. Her grey tank top didn’t do much in the way of covering her up, but she was suddenly, spectacularly grateful that she hadn’t also removed her sweatpants in the night. 

Once he returned his eyes to hers, he nodded. “Miss Niima.” 

“Hello?” Finn hollered, exaggerating the _o_ in a long, dramatic way, and snapping her out of her shock. She pushed the phone back to her ear quickly and murmured, “I’m gonna have to call you back,” before ending the call. 

He was in a suit, undoubtedly no less than ten grand, freshly pressed and looking about as rich as she knew that he was. His jacket was crisp, a beige trenchcoat number that went down to his calves and gave him an air of an old Hollywood villain, which Rey knew from experience was too tame a stereotype to describe the man before her. 

“What can I do for you?” she asked plainly, moving a hand to her hip. 

He huffed. “That’s a good question, dear, considering I did not come here to see you. This is still Kylo Ren’s residence, is it not?” he asked, turning his gaze past her, looking as far as he could into the apartment. 

Rey pulled the door closer to her protectively. “It is, but I’m afraid he’s indisposed at the moment.” 

“Is he now?” Snoke’s eyebrows shot up. “I was under the impression that he was making a swift recovery.” 

“He is—”

When Snoke took a small, almost imperceptible step closer, Rey’s stomach started to turn. 

“If he is, then I trust he’s up for a bit of company. Perhaps just a hello from an old, worried friend,” he interrupted lowly, his tone leaving no room for argument. It shouldn’t have come as a shock to her—he was, after all, an incredibly well-skilled attorney, and he talked people into corners for a living. His very presence was so unsettling that most of the time, no one bothered to fight back. 

But Rey didn’t scare that easy. 

“Um, he’s—look, he just woke up, he’s not quite ready for—” 

Snoke had opened his mouth to interrupt her _again_ when Rey heard footsteps approaching from behind.

“Alistair, hello,” Ben greeted, as easy as breathing. Rey was careful to avoid looking too shocked at his sudden appearance as she tilted her chin upward to look at him. 

He was fully dressed, looking put together in a way that did not seem realistic considering how _un_ dressed he’d been just minutes before, all tangled up with her in his bed. But there he was nonetheless, in a well-fitting black t-shirt and dark jeans, complete with a pair of stark white sneakers and a large-faced silver watch sitting on his left wrist. 

He looked good. Too good, really. 

He looked like Kylo when he’d forgone normal, human-like Saturday plans and went into the office, beckoning Rey in soon after to fetch him trivial things like copies and sandwiches for which he couldn’t be bothered to tear himself away. Casual but sophisticated in a way that let you know that the t-shirt definitely didn’t come in one of those Hanes twelve-packs. 

Rey realized not a moment too soon that she was staring—hard—and cleared her throat, looking back to Snoke. His eyes were traveling slowly between them both, heavy blinks punctuating each movement as he stared at them like his next meal. 

“You came to the Village? I can’t pay you to go further south than Washington, most days,” Ben continued when Snoke didn’t immediately respond. 

The question seemed to trigger him; his gaze cut quickly to Ben and he pursed his lips. 

“I wanted to check on you, of course. Come face-to-face with the man that defied death.” 

At that, Rey bristled. Next to her, she could see Ben’s shoulders tighten, just slightly. Still, he persevered, exuding an ease that she’d come to disassociate with him and package only with her memory of Kylo. But this was undeniable; his finesse was evident, oozing off of him as his lips curved into a slow, self-assured smile. He leaned into the doorway and folded his arms lightly against his chest, shrugging one shoulder. 

“You’re looking at him.” 

Snoke nodded, painfully slowly. “I suppose I am.” 

They stared at each other for a tense moment, Rey’s eyes stuck on Snoke as he seemed to examine Ben’s every inch with a vigor that made her mouth dry, until Ben’s voice broke the silence. “How are things back at the office?” 

The tall, unsavory-looking man shook his head. “Not quite the same, I’m afraid. No one around to compete with anymore. Takes all the fun out of it.” 

Ben nodded as Snoke’s eyes seemed to light up. “But you’ll be back soon enough, won’t you, Ren? Hell, you look healthy. What’s stopping you?” he prodded, looking expectant. 

Again, the ease at which Ben deflected, how he seemed to be three steps ahead of Snoke no matter what, was almost unsettling as Rey watched it unfold. 

“Brain’s good, body’s still on the mend,” he said casually. “Rey’s keeping me up-to-date on my cases you all looted like vultures,” he gestured to her with a tilt of his head. “I’ve got her watching everything. Knowing all of you, half of my clients would be in prison by the time I got back if I didn't.” 

It was a complete lie. Spit straight from his lips like the truest words he’d ever spoken. Snoke, however, seemed convinced, and had taken a small step back from them as Ben continued. 

“Shouldn’t be more than a week or so. Once my jagoff physical therapist signs my permission slip, I’ll be back. You’ll be rueing the day you told me you missed having me around.” 

A smile spread on Snoke’s lips. It wasn’t a kind one; it was teetering on the edge of dangerous and it made Rey’s cheeks heat with anxiety. 

“I’ll see you Monday, then,” he said through the smile. 

Ben nodded. “Thanks for coming by,” he offered, reaching for the doorknob. Rey backed into the apartment, giving him room to shut the door as he added, “You’re a good friend, Alistair.” 

He didn’t give him the chance to respond before he was closing the door, latching all three locks—deadbolt included—after it had clicked shut. 

Rey stood near the island, observing him in silence. Ben stared at the closed door for a few long seconds, and Rey could see the rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed. It was heavy enough that she could hear the exhales that escaped his mouth. 

When he finally turned around and looked at her, he looked scared. Worried.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Surprise crossed over Rey’s face as she reared her head back slightly. “Am _I_ okay?” 

The wrinkle in Ben’s brow deepened. “Yeah, he—he can be a lot. Not exactly a pleasant surprise at eight in the morning.” 

Surprise leaked into confusion quickly. “Ben, you—he was—" Rey shook her head, not understanding. "How did you know what to say to him? Why did you pretend like nothing was wrong?” 

“I’ve known Snoke for years. Even—” his eyes fell as he caught the words in his throat. “Even before the shooting. I knew him. I _know_ him.” 

“But the way you—” 

“He doesn’t need to know that anything is different, Rey. He exploits weakness. Prays on it. If he gets even a whiff of something being off with me, he won’t stop until he finds a way to use it against me. He doesn’t like that I’m the better candidate—” he stopped himself then, something like recognition flashing over his face.

Rey swallowed. It had fallen off his tongue without him even realizing it, and they both stood, paralyzed by the words.

He remembered—and that memory, being Snoke’s rival at the firm, his opponent in the race toward Managing Partner—was new.

It belonged wholly to Kylo.

She could see in his face that he knew exactly what that meant. “You’re remembering,” she said softly, almost to herself. 

Rey watched as Ben swallowed heavily, his eyes burning into hers.

Almost regretfully, he nodded. 

* * *

  
  


It was a gorgeous morning in Coruscant. Winter was nearing its end and making way for warmer days that were meant to be enjoyed outside, particularly on beautiful terraces with magnificent views of the cityscape. Maz had arrived not long after Snoke’s departure and recognized immediately that the air in the room was tense. She looked between Ben and Rey and shook her head, citing something about bad energy and that they both needed a strong cup of tea and some fresh air. Neither argued, and by the time Leia emerged from the guest room to join them on the plush outdoor couch, they were both in better spirits. 

All in all, Ben was still Ben. He grimaced and stuck his tongue out when he sipped Maz’s unsweetened green tea too soon and returned it quickly to the saucer; he still carried that tentativeness, the unsureness of a man that lacked confidence in a way that Kylo never had. Rey could see him glancing over at her from the corner of her eye, as if he needed constant reassurance that she hadn’t run for the hills—an idea which, if she was being honest with herself, had crossed her mind.

Kylo had done a number on her, but it was something that she could’ve lived with, especially considering she’d quit the firm in an effort to put as much distance between him and her as possible. She could have had a life and not thought constantly about how he reveled in ruining countless lives by getting murderers and thieves and other evil, rotten people off scot free. She could repress the memories of his cruel, unabashed words, used with careful precision, aimed right at someone’s shatterpoint. He went for blood, always, but Rey could’ve left him behind and slowly pushed all recollections of him to the far, dark part of her brain that housed everything else bad that had ever happened in her life.

But everything was different now. The idea of abandoning Ben completely in an effort to save herself, even from the worst person she’d ever known, seemed impossible. Rey was in this, as much as that notion terrified her with every new piece of Kylo that reemerged. 

“Honey, you look great,” Leia remarked once she’d settled in, crossing one leg over the other as she blew softly on her steaming tea. “Like you finally got a good night’s sleep.” 

The implication in her tone wasn’t lost on either of them, and Rey knew that to be true when she looked at Ben out of the corner of her eye and found him looking at her, too. 

Quickly, he turned back to his mother. “I did. I feel good. Really good, actually.” 

Leia’s returning smile was bright. “I’m so glad, Ben. I think,” she paused briefly, and then, “I think it’s time for me to head home. I’ve got to get back to work at some point or Amilyn might have a full-blown meltdown.” 

Ben huffed. “She’s still your right-hand, huh?” 

“Always,” Leia replied, somewhat affronted, like it was an outlandish thing to question. 

When Rey actually turned to look at Ben this time, full-on and not a sneaking glance, she could tell that there was a sadness to him that was different than the throbbing, dull waves of grief that washed over him in the wake of the news about his father. 

He didn’t want her to go. 

Leia seemed to recognize it, too. 

“Chandrila is only a two-hour plane ride, you know. I’ve still got your room set up. Haven’t changed a thing,” she supplied, and then looked to Rey. “And we have plenty of guest rooms.” 

Rey smiled at her, ducking her chin sheepishly. Ben shifted slightly. “Okay,” he said softly. “Thank you for coming, mom. I’m sorry about—” he paused, and Rey watched his fist clench at his side. “I’m sorry for everything.” 

She picked up her head to look at Leia and found the older woman staring at her son with a fondness that made her heart beat hard in her chest. It was painful, in a way, to see the love there, obvious and loud, knowing that she hadn’t been able to express it for so long. 

Leia stood up, setting her cup down on the table, and walked toward Ben. He stood, too, and wrapped her carefully in his arms. They embraced for a long moment, and Rey heard Leia say into Ben’s chest, “I’m sorry, too. I love you, Ben.” 

With his chin resting atop her head, he smiled. “I love you more.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Leia left that evening. 

Ben seemed deflated when he returned from the lobby, but not terribly so. A smile still formed on his lips when his eyes found Rey in the kitchen, looking at him over her shoulder as she surveyed the contents of the fridge. She was hungry but Maz was off for the evening, leaving the two of them to fend for themselves. 

She gave him a smile in return and turned back to the oversized appliance, which was far too big to house so little food. There were more compartments than she could count on two hands, but none of them offered anything that could satiate her growing hunger. 

Before she could close the door and turn around to shrug in Ben’s direction and offer to order pizza, he appeared behind her. She'd been too caught up in the rumblings of her stomach to notice that he was _close_ —close enough that she could feel his breath on the back of her neck, warm and soft as it hit her skin. His hand reached out to grab the door above where she was gripping it, and her eyes drifted toward it, gaping slightly at how it was twice the size of hers. 

“I haven’t told you this yet,” he murmured softly, “But I’m a pretty decent cook.” 

Rey turned her head, tilting her chin up to look at him. “Are you now?” 

Ben looked only _slightly_ smug. “I am. I make a mean, and I mean _mean_ ,” he walked over to the pantry and reached for something she couldn’t see. When he pulled the item out and showed it to her, she nearly laughed out loud. “Mac and cheese.” he finished, smiling widely at her as he held up the blue box proudly. 

“That sounds…” she reached into the fridge to pull out a half-empty bottle of almond milk Maz had supplied a few days ago, along with a questionable-looking stick of butter that may or may not have been safe to eat, and sighed happily. “Amazing.” 

“Good. You go start an episode or take a bath, or something. I’ll make it for us.” 

Rey rocked back and forth on her heels. “You sure?” 

Ben rolled his eyes. “I promise to use a potholder and not stick my hand into boiling water.” 

She laughed out loud at that, earning a brilliant smile from him, and eventually turned to leave the kitchen with a wide, giddy grin on her face. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


After a long, wonderful, twenty-minute wash-up under Ben’s luxurious rainfall shower head, Rey felt like a brand new person. She’d toweled off and stolen a t-shirt and sweatpants of his, though they were nearly falling off of her hips even with the drawstring pulled as tight as it could go. After taking full advantage of his top-of-the-line moisturizer and his spicy-smelly deodorant, she exited the ginormous bathroom. 

Wringing her hair out with a towel, she made her way back in the kitchen to see Ben stirring madly with a wooden spoon, little bits of processed cheese bits spotted all over his black t-shirt as he stared into the pot with concern. Rey couldn’t help but smile at the sight; there was a dish towel hung over his shoulder and he looked extremely concentrated, at least up until the point when he tore his gaze away from the pasta and saw her. 

The wooden spoon fell out of his hand and clattered out of the pot and onto the floor, leaving behind orange-yellow streaks as it went. 

Rey’s eyebrows shot up as he stared, looking her up and down with as much subtlety as a brick through one of his massive floor-to-ceiling windows. 

“What?” she asked, pulling the last bits of moisture from her hair into the baby blue towel. It was plush and soft and, considering how ridiculously perfect Ben’s hair _always_ was, she’d bet it was probably one of those super expensive ones that was part silk or something. 

“Nothing,” he spat out hastily as he reached down to grab the fallen spoon. Ben proceeded to wash it and return to his mission of mixing together their dinner, and Rey tossed the towel into the adjacent laundry room before sliding onto one of the barstools to watch. 

“You know, I was thinking,” Ben said with his back to her, the ripples of his muscles only sort of obvious as he kept stirring. 

Rey definitely wasn’t staring at them. Not at all. 

“Maybe it would be easier if you just moved in for a while.” 

He dropped the suggestion with an impressive air of nonchalance as he turned to grab two bowls from a cabinet. He set the dishes down in front of him and scooped equal amounts of mac and cheese into each before turning to finally face her, passing her meal and a spoon across the island. She reached for it, still a slightly taken aback by his statement, and watched as he started to dig into his food, leaning back against the counter. 

“Is this about your mom leaving?” she asked gently. 

Ben shook his head quickly, like he’d expected her to say that. “No. No, it’s—” he looked at her. “Whether she was here or not, I’d want you to stay. I’d ask you to stay every night, but you obviously need a toothbrush and probably a phone charger and—and clothes—” his eyes traveled to her shirt, her shoulders and even her chest for a half-second, and then back up to her eyes. “You’re swimming in mine. Not that I mind—trust me, I definitely don’t—”

Rey couldn’t help the tiny chuckle that escaped her lips at the sight of him. “Ben,” she interrupted. His mouth shut as he took a deep breath and Rey smiled easily. “I’d like that, I think,” she said, turning her gaze back to her dinner. She scooped a large bite onto her spoon and stuffed it into her mouth before looking back to him. “Living with you for a little while,” she garbled, chewing for a few seconds before swallowing. “I think I’d like that very much.” 

He looked lighter immediately, his face brightening to the point where Rey nearly had to look away from him. “Yeah?” he asked, so innocently, so vulnerable that it almost broke her heart. 

She nodded and Ben smiled, so big that she could see each beautiful imperfection of his crooked, toothy grin. “Thank God,” he breathed, “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you’d left tonight—I—” he shook his head, eyes drifting away for a moment before finding their way back to hers.

“I hate it when you’re not here, Rey. I hate it when you’re not with me.” 

Rey swallowed, hard. She set her spoon down gently and held his gaze as she spoke. 

“I’m with you, Ben,” she told him, resolutely. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They are actual baby angel children and I missed them so much. 
> 
> Thank you for reading/sticking around - I promise not to go two months before updating again. <3 
> 
> ~*~ [my twitter](http://twitter.com/taylormaybe) ~*~


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It occurred to me last night that I somehow neglected to mention [this absolutely wonderful moodboard](https://twitter.com/foIkIxre/status/1292840293063176192) that was commissioned for this fic! I am obsessed with it. 
> 
> Hope you all like this chapter... let me know what you think! I read each and every comment and squeal/cry tears of joy often upon receiving them, so thank you. 
> 
> As always, follow me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/taylormaybe)!

“I _have_ thought about it, Finn,” Rey sighed. “At length, actually.”

“At length?” her stubborn, exceedingly helpful best friend grumbled as he carted two inordinately heavy duffel bags down the last flight of stairs. “I don’t think you can say you’ve done anything at length when it’s been less than twenty-four hours.” 

On Rey’s shoulders hung the lavender backpack she’d kept all through undergrad; it was fraying where the straps met the bag and there was more than one coffee stain on it, but she wasn’t materialistic—it lugged her textbooks and her ancient, brick-like laptop around campus just fine. No need to fix what wasn’t broken. 

She hit the last step and turned to glare at Finn, who stopped abruptly right behind her, looking exasperated and slightly sweaty. Despite her insistence that she could carry at least one of her bags down their eighth floor walk-up, he’d waved her away, muttering something about doing one last nice thing for her before she was no longer his roommate. 

He was nothing if not dramatic. 

“It’s two weeks. I’ll be back before the spring semester starts. You won’t even notice I’m gone,” Rey stated confidently, ignoring the skeptical look on his face. 

“I’m just saying,” he shook his head, “You barely know this guy and you told me yourself that he’s really starting to remember things. Kylo Ren things.” He pushed past her, kicking the creaky door open and walking—stomping, really—in the direction of her car. His back was to her as he spouted over his shoulder, “The man that made you absolutely miserable for six months. You remember that, right?” 

Rey rolled her eyes as she followed. “Of course I remember.” 

“Okay, just making sure.” He unlocked the trunk manually (her car was more ancient than her _Compaq_ laptop) and threw her bags in. Rey piled into the driver’s seat, pushing her head against the headrest. She let out a heavy sigh as Finn buckled himself in. 

“He’s not—” Rey paused. She shook her head, hoping to dismiss the train of thought entirely. “He’s not going to be Kylo again. He wouldn’t.” 

Finn turned to her as she pushed the key into the ignition. He didn’t look accusatory or annoyed—he looked concerned. “Maybe Ben wouldn’t. But we both know what he was capable of before he was this...sweet angel that you make him out to be.” 

“I have never once said the words _sweet angel_ ,” Rey scoffed. 

The car rumbled to life as Finn gave her a side-eyed glare. “Uh huh.” 

They lived on the outskirts of the city, about five miles from Coruscant proper. The rent was cheap, and for good reason—they had no washer and dryer, no elevator, and only enough hot water to allow one of them a hot shower most days. It was a far cry from Ben’s penthouse, with his clawfoot tubs and in-home gym. 

Part of Rey wished that Finn could come, too. He, like her, grew up with little; he never starved like she did, never had to wear hand-me-down shoes that didn’t fit to school only to get laughed at when he tripped over his own feet, but he didn’t have much. He deserved a little luxury, a break from the woes of being a poor college student living in a shithole. 

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, Rey,” he said gently, bringing her back to the moment. 

They’d pulled up to the stoplight next to the market they went to on Sundays for cinnamon rolls and coffee. Finn usually played Words with Friends with Rose while Rey studied or read, the two sitting in complete, comfortable silence for hours. He was a wonderful friend—always had been. Thoughtful and protective, considerate and warm; he was the first person that had truly loved her, cared for her because he wanted to and not because he was legally obligated to do so. 

Rey reached out and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as the light turned green. “I’ve got this,” she promised. 

Finn sighed, but affectionately bumped his head against her hand. “You always do.”

* * *

  
  


The sound of muffled music filled the hallway as they stepped out of the elevator. 

Finn looked to her and Rey shrugged, unsure what to make of it. It was lunch time, and Maz usually sang to herself as she wandered around the apartment, but she’d never once seen her take advantage of the fancy, high-tech speaker system that was built into the _walls_. That had, up to this point anyway, only been reserved for their nightly viewings of _Game of Thrones_.

Rey wasn’t sure what to expect as she unlocked the door, but she definitely did not expect in the slightest to find Maz and Ben dancing in the kitchen as Jackson 5 blared through the speakers. The tiny woman was giggling loudly as Ben spun her around with a goofy, toothy grin on his face. Rey’s jaw dropped as she entered the room fully, ignoring Finn’s low _“huh’_ behind her as he followed. 

Poe was at the island, an amused expression on his face as he tapped his hand against the countertop in time with the beat. He was hollering something about Ben loosening up his knees when he realized that Finn and Rey were standing beside him.

“This isn’t part of our exercise regimen,” he hollered over the song, leaning toward them. “But shaking a little leg never hurt anyone, am I right?” 

Rey nodded distractedly. Her eyes were glued to Ben. 

As she watched, she could tell that some movements were easier than others, that his legs were working and moving the way he wanted, but not without taking a toll. He was slightly sweaty, his baby-blue t-shirt showing evidence of it under his arms and near his neck. But more than anything, she noticed the way he looked comfortable—light and happy in a way that she’d never witnessed before. The progress he’d made was undeniable. 

“Who’s your friend?” Poe asked. He’d gotten up from the island without her noticing, and she followed his eyes and saw Finn standing there with the same level of interest and curiosity on his face as he looked at Poe. They both had a hint of a smile tugging at their lips. 

“This is my best friend, Finn,” Rey replied, smirking as she noticed neither of them looking at her. “Finn, this is Poe Dameron, Ben’s physical therapist.” 

Finn dropped Rey’s bags onto the floor before reaching out a hand. “Great to meet you.” 

“Yeah, likewise,” Poe agreed, and Rey couldn’t help but notice that he seemed a little dazed—less grounded in the moment than he’d been when they walked in. They held each other’s hands and didn’t let go, even when the music died down and Rey cleared her throat.

Finn let go, almost reluctantly. “Do you live here, too?” 

Rey’s eyes and attention drifted back to the kitchen where Ben was no longer dancing, but instead shaking his head mirthfully at Maz, who was pushing him in Rey’s direction.

“Go on then, ask her,” she urged. “And don’t step on her toes with your big feet.” 

Ben rolled his eyes as he detached from her, smiling all the while as he made his way toward Rey. Finn and Poe continued behind her, now talking about the other’s favorite Jackson song and gasping when they both said _Blame it on the Boogie_ at the same time. 

  
  


“Maz wants me to ask you to dance,” Ben said when he reached her. “Make sure she sees you tell me no so she doesn’t hound me.” 

“What makes you think I’m going to say no?” Rey asked. Ben’s eyes went wide. 

“I’m kidding,” she giggled. “C’mon, you can help me unpack.” She gestured toward the bags that Finn had dropped unceremoniously on the floor before grabbing one and handing it to Ben. She took the other one before standing up and looking at Finn, who was nodding dramatically as Poe started on a diatribe about modern music having no heart or soul like it did when they were kids. When she opened her mouth to tell him to join them when he was done, he shot her a warning look for a split-second, so fast she’d have missed it if she blinked. 

She looked between the two of them and noticed Poe’s eyes—they were completely lit up as he spoke passionately, making dramatic gestures with his hands. By the time her gaze moved back to Finn, she saw the same light there, and that faint, barely-there smile from earlier had transformed into a big, smitten grin.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Okay, next topic. Personal life.”

Rey took a large bite of the candy bar she’d purchased for herself alongside a sugar-free Red Bull in preparation for the activity at hand. There was a stack of flashcards in her hands, at least an inch thick, full of questions about Kylo Ren’s life. 

“Yikes,” Ben grimaced from where he lay on the chaise lounge. Rey had her feet propped up on the opposite arm of the couch, her head resting on a pillow only inches from his. 

This close, she could smell his cologne. It had been a bit disarming at first when he’d started to use it again, smelling that particular scent that she knew as Kylo’s. Vetiver and cardamom with just enough of a clean, bright undertone that it was somewhat intoxicating, even when it was being worn by her hardass boss. On Ben, it was something else entirely. He carried the scent differently; it was lighter on him and somehow more delicious than it ever had been before. It made it hard for her to see straight.

Rey looked at the next card. “Who was your last girlfriend?”

He was quiet for a few seconds, and then, “I can see her face, I think,” Ben mused. “But I don’t know her name.” 

“What’d she look like?” Rey asked, though she knew exactly what Bazine Netal looked like. She used to show up unannounced at the office all the time, always in red, traipsing down the hallways like she owned the building and everyone in it. Her face never moved; the skin on her forehead was so tight that even when she was scolding someone (which was not an uncommon occurrence), she looked scarily impassive. She was never nice to Rey. 

“She’s brunette.” 

“Yep. Anything else?” 

“She has a…a really strong brow.” 

Rey huffed a laugh. “Yes, she does.” 

“She’s—she’s pretty,” he stated plainly, and Rey would have been lying through her teeth if she said it didn’t make her bristle slightly, hearing Ben talk about Bazine in a positive way. “But she looks a little scary. Maybe mean.” 

“You two were quite the pair,” Rey said quietly. 

“Who was she?” he asked, sounding unsure. When Rey picked her head up and turned to look at him, he had his arms behind his head as he worried his lip with his teeth. 

“Her name was Bazine. You weren’t together very long. She ended things with you because you never made time for her,” Rey explained. She knew every detail with startling clarity because she’d actually witnessed the breakup herself. Not with her own eyes, but Bazine did not speak quietly as a rule, and the walls at the firm were very thin. The whole floor practically got a front row seat to their breakup, which lasted about five minutes, given that Kylo hadn’t fought the decision. 

“Well alright, then.” 

“Next question,” Rey said as she looked at the next flashcard, which she’d handwritten based on suggestions from a website, and her eyes went a little buggy. She’d clearly been on autopilot during the creation of these cards to some extent, because the question in her hand was personal enough to make her squirm. 

“Who was the last person you had sex with?” she uttered, the words feeling strange in her mouth. 

Rey could feel him shift slightly as he cleared his throat. “Her. It was her. I don’t remember the details—I can just see flashes of her bo—” 

“That’s a sufficient answer, I think,” Rey cut in, setting the cards down on her stomach. 

After a quiet moment that seemed to stretch for whole minutes, Ben broke the silence. His voice was gentle. “So, what’s my prognosis, doc? Am I cured?” 

Rey couldn’t help but smile, though the question carried more weight than she wanted to believe. After all, she didn’t know what _cured_ meant to Ben. She didn’t know if he was reaching for the memories of his life with desperation, wanting to get the full picture so he could return to it fully. It terrified her to think that him being cured could mean being cured of all things Ben Solo. She shuddered at the thought.

“Maybe so,” she said, feigning nonchalance as best she could, “But either way, we should go talk to Dr. Phasma. Poe said you’re almost ready to graduate and that we should get you checked out, see where she thinks you are in the…brain part of your recovery.” 

“The _brain part_ ,” he repeated, sounding amused. 

Rey flipped over again, resting her chin against her palms. “Another round, then? Maybe we can do something a bit lighter, like foods or sports teams.” 

Ben turned to look at her. His face was soft, but she knew the answer he’d give before he could speak it aloud. He looked tired. 

“Maybe later,” he said quietly. “Can we just—” he swallowed. “Can we just hang out?” 

She could feel the tension in her shoulders start to release. With every stride he made toward Kylo, he never failed to remind her that he was still Ben, somehow. In his own way. It made Rey’s heart ache, thinking of the two warring sides and how desperately she wished she could cling to Ben for life, to keep him here, next to her, for good. 

She smiled, hoping it didn’t look as sad as she felt. “Of course we can.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Gwen Phasma was every bit as intimidating as Rey remembered. Her appearance alone was striking—taller than Ben, perhaps more built than him, too, and bright, platinum locks that were cut into a sharp bob that was in line with her ears. Her features were hard and beautiful all at once, an almost mesmerizing uniqueness that Rey had to remind herself not to stare at too hard because she was also slightly terrifying. 

“Benjamin, I am absolutely in awe of your progress,” she stated evenly, betraying none of the aforementioned awe in her voice. She sat behind a sleek, modern-looking desk that reminded Rey of all the cold, angular furniture in Ben’s apartment, and she was staring down at his file, intermittently looking up at him through bleach-blonde eyelashes. 

“Honestly. At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised if you regain all of your memories within the year,” Phasma declared as she slowly shut the manila folder. She folded her hands over the document and managed what Rey assumed was meant to be a smile. In the short time that she’d know the doctor, it was obvious that smiling, emoting of any kind, really, was not her most natural inclination. 

“What can we do?” Ben asked and Rey’s gaze cut to him as her brow furrowed. “To help, I mean. Is there anything we can do?” 

“You’re doing everything you should be doing.” Phasma gestured with her hands as she shook her head. “The memory games were a great idea. Keep doing that kind of stuff. Keep your body healthy and moving, but don’t push yourself too hard. Be patient with it.” 

Ben was clutching the arms of the office chair, rolling his lips together as Phasma spoke. He looked nervous, but he also looked hopeful.

Rey’s heart started to beat faster. 

_Regain all of your memories within the year._

She pushed it aside as best she could for his sake and nodded at the doctor. “I’ll do whatever I can to help,” she said, and it wasn’t like she didn’t mean it. She did, fully, with every bit of her heart. She wouldn’t turn away from him now, but she also knew that perhaps it was time to start thinking about the looming possibility of having to return to her life, the way it had been pre-Ben Solo. With the velocity at which he was recovering, it seemed that she was going to have to face that reality sooner rather than later. 

It felt like an impossible feat. 

* * *

  
  


The car ride back to Coruscant was quiet, heavy with words Rey was too afraid to say. 

She could feel Ben buzzing beside her, could see him turn to look at her every few minutes though she kept her eyes glued to the road. She was far too occupied with playing out all the possible scenarios that were about to occur, developing escape routes and recovery plans for when this carefully constructed house of cards that was her and Ben’s relationship inevitably fell to the ground. Soon enough, he may again be Kylo; he might remember everything about his life after law school, remember his anger, his resentment. That bitter, sullen man could reemerge, his patience paper-thin and his empathy nonexistent. 

She wondered if it would be like Ben had never returned in the first place, if he’d reset and realign on his path toward a lonely, empty existence where all he cared about was winning and money. 

“So, that was good, right?” he finally asked, about twenty-minutes into the ride. His elbow was resting on the door, his head tilted sideways as it leaned against his fist. “I feel like she said all the things we wanted to hear, so I can’t figure out why you’re not happy about it.” 

Rey’s nostrils flared and she gripped the steering wheel tighter. 

“I am happy about it. I’m—” she took a breath. “I’m so happy for you, Ben,” Rey managed a glance in his direction. “I’m so proud of how far you’ve come. Really.” 

“Rey.” He didn’t look convinced.

She swallowed, turning back to the road. “I don’t know how this works, okay? I’ve never...I’ve never been here before,” she attempted to explain. “I don’t know what all of this will look like in a year and I just—” Rey bit her lip, ducking her head for a quick moment before bringing her eyes back to the long stretch of highway. 

Ben was still looking at her. “You just what?” 

“I don’t want to go back to the way things were,” she admitted. “Not fully, anyway. I can’t be your assistant and watch you fight for people that hurt others. I can’t watch you be him again, not after knowing you like—like this. Not after knowing that you can be kind.” 

He was quiet for a long moment and then he turned away from her, both of them staring out the windshield in silence. Rey’s bottom lip was quivering of its own accord at her admission, which was genuine, if not fully encompassing of all that she felt. 

Because she had been truthful about not being able to watch him be the heartless attorney again—there was no way she could stomach it with how well she knew his heart now. It was big and warm and caring and she couldn’t fathom standing by while he pushed it down, snuffing out its light so that he could do his job as well as he had before. But there was more to it than that, and she’d bitten her tongue to avoid word-vomiting the actual truth, which was that she didn’t want to lose her friend—if that’s what he was. It felt like too light or casual a term to describe what Ben was to her, even if their time together had been so brief. Where Rey felt like she’d never known Kylo at all, didn’t care to, truthfully—she felt like she’d known Ben for years. A lifetime. 

“Maybe I don’t want to do that,” he said finally, quietly. “I’ve never been here before either, Rey.” 

Her heart squeezed tightly.

“I know,” she breathed, nodding. “I know.”

* * *

  
  


By the time they got back to Coruscant, she was exhausted. Ben went straight for the shower after requesting pizza and Game of Thrones for the rest of the evening, and his smile as he disappeared down the hallway had brought a welcomed lightness to Rey’s chest. 

She stood at the island, yawning heavily and scrolling through her missed notifications when she noticed one in particular. Her mouth went a little dry at the sight of it. 

\------------------------------

**SENDER** : Palpatine, Sheev

 **SUBJECT** : Progress Report

_Miss Niima,_

_I’ve spoken with Alistair Snoke, who let me know that Kylo is well enough to return to the office soon. I would thoroughly appreciate your confirmation of this statement and a progress report on his recovery posthaste._

_Regards,_

_Sheev Palpatine_

\------------------------------

Rey’s palms felt instantly clammy as she held the phone in her grip. The email was from yesterday; it had been buried underneath a multitude of newsletters and promotions Rey didn’t remember signing up for, and the pit in her stomach only grew as she stared at the timestamp. Palpatine wasn’t a patient man—she had no choice but to reply, and the fact of the matter was, she wouldn’t have to lie to him about Ben’s progress. 

She was going to tell him the truth, and it would be exactly the words he wanted to hear. 

She took a deep, steadying breath and started typing. 

\------------------------------

_Mr. Palpatine,_

_We visited with Kylo’s doctor today and she was quite pleased with his progress. She said that he is on track to regain all of his memories within the year. He does appear to be enthusiastic about making a full recovery, as well as returning to work._

_He has one more session with his physical therapist next week, and should it go well, he will be cleared to go back._

_I will let you know how it goes._

_Until then,_

_Rey Niima_

\------------------------------

It wasn’t until she hit send that she realized she was crying. 

Tears flowed down her cheeks freely and quickly, rushing to be expelled from her eyes as her chest heaved. The sobs that wracked through her body were unexpected but still painful in a way that made her double over, covering her face with her hands as she cried and cried. 

Her palms would come away from her eyes streaked with running mascara, and she could hear the echo of her fit bouncing off the kitchen walls, but she couldn’t seem to stop. It all felt too real now—the ugly, harsh reality of all this. 

It was no longer a matter of _if_ Kylo would return, but when. She delivered that message herself, typed out the words carefully and didn’t speak in half-truths. It felt like she’d sealed his fate and in turn hers, too, like she’d given them an expiration date and they were—suddenly and quickly—running out of time. 

She’d loved so few in her life. Finn. A social worker named Ami that desperately tried to find her a good placement each time she was put back into the system. Rose. 

Now Ben. 

So few to love, but to Rey, too many to lose, especially if losing them felt anything like _this._

She cried harder at the thought, her palms soaked and her stomach starting to turn when she felt strong, warm hands grip her shoulders. They lifted her off the counter easily and stood her up, and before she could register what was happening, they turned her around and pulled her in until she was crushed into Ben’s chest. 

He was fresh out of the shower, the ends of his hair dripping onto his white t-shirt and smelling like absolute heaven. Rey breathed him in immediately, hiccuping a couple of times as she settled against him. He said nothing, just held her tightly, one hand resting on the back of her head and while his other arm wrapped around her shoulders. 

Ben shushed her gently, softly against her temple as Rey’s cries started to dissipate. She’d returned his embrace by hugging him tightly around his middle, her hands feeling dwarfish as they rubbed against his broad back. 

“I’m sorry, I—” her voice was broken, muddled by tears. “I don’t normally get like this.” 

He pulled back slightly at her words and tilted her head up so he could look her in the eye. His features were soft, achingly so, as he stared down at her with a fondness that enveloped her heart in warmth. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Rey wondered what it would be like to kiss him. 

He was quiet for a long moment, seemingly content to just look at her. Then, he shook his head and pulled her back in. His lips were at her temple and Rey’s eyes slid closed when she felt him press a kiss to her skin. His breath was warm. She wanted to melt into him. 

“I’m not gonna be him again, Rey,” Ben whispered. “I promise." 

Rey’s face crumpled at his words, a fresh wave of sobs overtaking her. Ben just held her tighter as she cried, soaking his t-shirt with tears and nodding against his chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've seen quite a few comments about wanting to see Ben's POV and I just wanted to say: I hear you; I agree with you. And more importantly, you will not be disappointed. :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Ana for the beta! ❤
> 
> come hang with me on [twitter!](http://twitter.com/taylormaybe)

The guest bedroom—Rey’s bedroom; Ben refused to call it anything else—quickly became the only source of greenery in the apartment. There was a medium-sized sprawling ivy over the nightstand, thriving beautifully in the natural light emitted by the large windows. A small, unassuming cactus sat on the dresser. A temperamental fiddle leaf fig was near the bathroom door; it was tall and sturdy for the moment, but it seemed like the shiftier of its kind, never predictable and constantly on the precipice of death. It seemed to look at Rey mockingly as she tried to explain to Ben how he’d need to care for it once she left—her apartment was dark even with the windows open in the middle of the sunniest day, a graveyard for plants as much as its tenant’s mental health. 

Their days went by slowly and quietly. Maz came over less and less frequently; Ben and Rey were left to fend for themselves in the kitchen and turned to YouTube for salvation often, attempting amateur recipes that seemed foolproof enough, like omelettes and spaghetti and grilled cheeses with bacon. They made it through three seasons of _Game of Thrones,_ and Rey consoled Ben after the Red Wedding, promising that the Lannisters would eventually get what they deserved. They continued to play memory games, though the topics evolved in their complexity the more hours Ben logged. Most recently, they’d ventured bravely into clients. Cases. Reasons why he’d lost, though it had been a highly infrequent event. 

Rey was wary to speak of the larger list—the cases he’d won. The murderers and thieves and devilish people he’d freed. It was intimidating, how endless that list seemed to be. The Deveroux file sat heavily in her lap as she drafted the flashcards. 

According to Palpatine’s curt, uncharitable response to Rey’s email, Tim Deveroux was currently in custody as the prime suspect in the shooting. His alibi was allegedly flimsy at best and he would go down easily, which, as the old man so gently put it, was something that Kylo should get to see. The statement was perfunctory, unfeeling in a way that made Rey’s stomach turn. 

She remembered Tim Deveroux’s voice on the phone the day after the trial; he’d been desperate, but not in a way that provoked any concern. It was a sad, hopeless desperation, not an angry one. Rey had wanted to help him, but hadn’t the slightest idea of where to start. 

And then Kylo overheard her speaking with him and put an end to that thought with his fist.

So, yeah. Though it was something that needed to happen, she wasn’t looking forward to opening that can of worms. Her plan was to wait until after his last session with Poe; she wanted him to be in good spirits for the hour that he would be (quite literally) putting his best foot forward, so she resolved to keep the questions to herself until after he’d received a clean bill of health. 

It was bittersweet, when he finally did. Rey’d snuck by the gym here and there, walking by and sneaking a glance under the pretense of gathering towels for the laundry, or claiming she’d run out of toothpaste, but by the end of it, on her last drive-by, she found the two embracing each other in the middle of the room. Poe faced her and smiled with unabashed pride as he held onto Ben’s back, clapping his palm against it a couple of times before releasing him. He barked out his signature, booming laugh and congratulated him, and Rey felt her own tendrils of pride unfurling in her belly as she watched the back of Ben’s head nod in acknowledgement, his shoulders slightly hunched upon receiving all the praise. 

“We should celebrate,” Poe enthusiastically suggested when they joined Rey in the kitchen. “Ben here is officially a real boy again.” Another clap to Ben’s back. 

Rey’s smile was wide—immense in its size and its sincerity as she looked at Ben, as Ben looked at her with a level of nervous expectation. She jumped quickly out of her stool and rushed over to him, lifting onto her tiptoes so she could wrap her arms around his neck. It happened fast; Ben’s arms hung lamely at his sides for a split-second until he seemed to register what was happening, and then he was wrapping them tightly around her middle, lifting her up into the air. Rey squealed, one of her hands moving to cradle the back of his head as she giggled into his neck. 

He set her down slowly, and not a moment too soon. The two of them stared at each other once she was settled back onto her feet, slightly panting and both looking a little dumbstruck. 

“Should I excuse myself? Give you two a minute?” Poe’s voice broke through their moment--if that’s what that was, anyway. Rey’s brain supplied that it could’ve just been a joyous, celebratory hug between friends and nothing more than that, but her heart, beating wildly and harshly in her chest, wholly disagreed. It was a moment—and an interrupted one, at that. 

“Celebrate, yes,” Rey breathed, nodding. “We should definitely celebrate.” 

“Great!” Poe slapped the countertop as he stood up. “Monroe’s?” 

Ben perked up. “I like Monroe’s.” 

“You do?” Rey asked, eyebrows lifted. 

The smile he gave her in return was hesitant, as was his nod. “They have a really great Old Fashioned there. Make the bitters in-house.” 

The gravity of the statement was lost on Poe, who was satisfied enough that they’d agreed on a place so quickly. “Monroe’s it is, then,” he said, and then turned to Rey. 

She glanced back at him and noticed an uncharacteristic uneasiness cross over his face. She frowned, hoping to suss out whatever had just come over him. “What?” 

“Do you think you—” A pause. He looked away from her, took a deep breath, and then looked back. “Would Finn maybe...enjoy an Old Fashioned at Monroe’s?” 

* * *

  
  


It wasn’t exactly the kind of place Rey would’ve pegged as a go-to for Kylo, but Monroe’s was charming in its own cozy, off-center way. The wood floors were real and creaked when you stepped on them, but they were also slightly sticky. Red and orange lights hung around the perimeter in various forms—predominantly those icicle-like ones you hung at Christmas. Dozens of beer signs provided more illumination around the room and there was a stage at the far end, which was currently home to a band. Patrons of all kinds were gathered on a small dance floor, swaying with the band’s melodies as they played happily, the singer jumping around and flipping her bright pink hair around as she went. 

The tables were high-tops and Rey’s legs were swinging back and forth, too far off the ground to touch as she sat at one with Ben and Finn. Poe had insisted on buying their second round after Ben got the first, and they all sat in a comfortable silence as they listened to the band and nursed their cocktails. 

If Ben was noticing the way her knee kept _accidentally_ bumping against his under the table, he wasn’t calling attention to it. 

She’d looked at him over sips of her margarita more than once, still slightly taken aback at how _good_ he looked. It wasn’t like she’d never seen him out before, but this was different—he was softer than Kylo ever wanted to be in his clothing, choosing a white, long-sleeved henley that clung perfectly to his body over a black button-down. His hair was—as usual—perfectly coiffed, but more than anything, his confidence, the easy smile on his face, the way he was leaned back in his chair and those soulful, honey-brown eyes that seemed to burn each time they met hers—that was the striking part of it all.

He’d seen her looking at him at least twice, and each time he did, his smile turned sweet. Reverent in a way that made her wish they were back home so she could—

Suddenly, he was leaning in, his mouth right next to her ear. “I’m gonna use the restroom,” he stated lowly, just for her. Then he winked at her and mouthed, “Save my seat,” as he walked off.

Okay, so, she was in trouble. That much was becoming extremely obvious. 

“Should we leave you two to it, then?” Finn remarked, and Rey realized belatedly that she’d been staring after Ben for some time. Her gaze cut back to Finn quickly, lips pressing into a tight line. With her eyes, she warned him of venturing down this path.

Finn was undeterred. “You’ve been staring at him like a lovesick teenager since we got here.” 

She scoffed. “Have not.” 

“And Poe told me about your little _moment_ back at the apartment.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We hugged. I was congratulating him. Poe hugged him too, you know. Did he tell you that?” she added with as much conviction as she could manage. 

Her best friend was unconvinced. He rolled his eyes at her and said, “Don’t even. He told me you were like breathing all heavy and shit. Staring at each other like idiots.” 

“Who are we talking about? Rey and Ben?” Poe asked as he approached the table, all four drinks carried steadily and expertly. He sent them down gently and handed Finn his Heineken. Rey reached for her second margarita and shook her head, exasperated at this new two-on-one attack. Plus, Ben could come back any second, and she might sink into the sticky floor if he overheard _any_ of this. 

“I hate you both, just for the record. Now, can we talk about something else? Please?” 

“We,” Poe started, and then grabbed Finn’s newly acquired beer from his hands, mid-drink. He looked confused and went to pull it back, but Poe had already set it down on the table as he finished, “are going dancing. You two can talk about _whatever_ you want.” 

With that, he grabbed Finn’s now-free hand and pulled him away toward the stage, neither of them even bothering to look back as Rey stared in disbelief. 

“Ridiculous,” she muttered to herself before taking a long pull of her drink, and then added a bit louder, “You’re both ridiculous.” 

“I, for one, am glad those two are hitting it off,” a voice stated behind her, and Rey turned to see Ben reclaiming the stool next to her. He picked up his Old Fashioned as he watched them, not noticing that as he watched Poe effortlessly guide a less-graceful Finn around the dance floor, Rey was watching him. He slowly started to turn his head and attention back to her, and she moved quickly, tearing her gaze away and relocating it to the pale green liquid in her glass. 

“Me too,” she managed. “Finn needs someone that can break him out of his shell. He’s always been the shyer of the two of us.” 

“How long have you known him?” 

“Forever.” Rey shrugged. “We both grew up in the system. Got placed in a few homes together. He was my first friend—my only friend, actually, for most of my life.” 

Ben nodded. “He seems like a good guy. A good friend, too.” 

She giggled when she saw Finn nearly trip over his feet twice in quick succession and Poe helping him recover quickly with two strong hands on his shoulders. They danced like they were the only two people in the room—looked at each other like that, too, and Rey could feel a warm fuzziness overtake her as she observed it all from afar.

“He’s the best,” she said. “He deserves the best.” 

A beat of quiet and then, with his voice seemingly an octave lower, Ben said, “You do, too, you know.” 

Rey turned to look at him and found him giving her his full attention, his gaze heavy and his eyes as bright as she’d ever seen them. They blazed, unblinking and intense in a way that reminded her of Kylo, but with enough Ben in them that she never wanted him to look away. 

And maybe, she realized then, this was how it would be. Fragments of both connecting to create a whole—a new person entirely, neither Kylo nor Ben fully, but this magnetic, enveloping force of a man that she couldn’t seem to look away from. If she was being honest with herself, she quite liked the feeling of being swept up in his gravitational pull. 

“What?” she finally sputtered, looking at Ben incredulously. 

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You deserve the best, Rey. I hope that you know that.” 

Her palms started to sweat. “I don’t—” she broke off, shaking her head. “I don’t know about that.” 

He looked immediately affronted. “Rey, you—” 

“Come _on_ , you two,” Poe hollered, interrupting them. Again. “You need to use those legs for more than just walking, Benjamin!” 

Ben’s mouth clamped shut as he tore his gaze away from Rey, waving a dismissive hand in Poe’s direction. The song faded into something less wild, evolving into a pleasant, catchy tune that had Rey unconsciously tapping her foot against the stool’s leg. Ben exhaled and looked at her again. 

“I will if you will,” he murmured, looking mischievous and adorable all at once. 

If she thought her hands were clammy before, they were practically leaking now. She looked at their friends, standing at a rather intimate proximity, and then back to Ben. He was still looking at her. 

Whatever expression formed on her face must’ve been a good enough indication that she was willing because Ben stood without a word and held his hand out to her, that boyish smile still sitting perfectly on his lips. She had no choice but to take it—not when he looked like _that_ in that shirt and those jeans and was looking at her like he there was no place on the planet he would rather have been.

When he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, Rey had to resist letting her eyes slide shut. 

Poe was unsurprisingly obnoxious when they reached the dance floor, and when Finn followed his gaze, he flashed Rey a triumphant smile that she couldn’t help but return. Despite her nerves and the way her stomach kept _fluttering_ , she was undeniably happy about how smitten he looked. 

“Maz told me that I should watch my feet,” Ben said beside her, and Rey turned to find him wiggling around to the music, all elbows and not quite enough hips, and it was almost impossible to contain her laughter. Rey reached for his hands and slowed him down, delighting in the way their height difference helped her spin under his arm to the beat. She guided him as best she could, hoping that she didn’t look as nervous as she felt inside, where she was practically buzzing.

Soon enough, they managed to reach an understanding, and just as Rey was confident that Ben could twirl her around himself without stepping on her toes, the song faded to a close. They were both breathless and staring at each other gleefully for the second time that day, only for both of their faces to shift into something unsure when the next song started. 

It was slow. It was beautiful, haunting almost as the vocals started in acapella, but then it evolved into a gorgeous thing that deserved to be swayed to. 

Rey kept looking at Ben, and Ben kept looking at Rey, and the lyrics made her feel braver than she was. 

“I will if you will,” she said softly. 

His responding smile could’ve lit the entire block. 

He stepped in at the same time that she did and, like she’d wanted to for perhaps longer than she knew, Rey melted into his arms. Ben was tall enough that wrapping her arms around his neck wasn’t necessarily a sustainable action, so he held one of his hands out for her to hold onto and placed his other at the small of her back. Rey wrapped her arm tightly around his middle, and they swayed like the song wanted them to; they moved with each other like it was something they’d been doing for decades. He was warm, soft and hard in all the places she needed him to be, and Rey could feel the butterflies that had been dancing in her abdomen take flight. 

“You smell like black pepper,” Ben murmured against her temple. 

This time, Rey couldn’t help but close her eyes, feeling suddenly overwhelmed at the possibility that maybe, _just maybe_ , he could find his middle ground. It wouldn’t be a perfect division; Ben was managing to weave himself into this sweet, beguiling man he woke up as with the confidence, the cleverness and the finesse of the man he used to be. It was a heady mixture, and hearing the words that Kylo had said to her all those months ago now coming out of Ben’s mouth, adoring and quiet and with that same reverence she'd witnessed earlier, made her feel weak in the knees. 

But Ben wasn’t going to let her fall. 

She wasn’t certain about a lot of things lately, but she was sure of that. 

A sudden urge to look at him overcame her, so Rey picked up her chin and opened her eyes, finding those amber orbs staring back at her intensely, darker than she’d ever seen them. They held each other’s gaze for a long moment and then she watched with flames bursting in her core as Ben’s eyes fell to her mouth. It was like her feet were moving independently of her brain when she lifted up onto her tiptoes and felt her heart squeeze as he leaned down. Her eyes were sliding shut and she could feel his breath on her lips and—

“I knew it! I told you! You owe me my next beer,” Poe’s voice echoed, and Rey opened her eyes to see him slapping Finn on the shoulder, practically beaming at the two of them. They were much closer than they had been just moments ago, and they were both staring at her and Ben with stupidly large grins on their faces. Rey hoped that the look she was giving Finn at the moment could speak for just how _done_ she was with Poe’s interruptions. 

His smile faded slightly, and he looked over to Poe, squeezing his shoulder and rubbing this thumb over the material of his baby-blue t-shirt. “Why don’t we have the next round at your place?” he suggested, slipping a side-eyed glance at Rey, who could already feel herself relaxing. 

Poe may have been a terrible influence, but at the end of the day, Finn was Rey’s best friend. Her wingman of twenty-five years. He knew how to do damage control for her better than anyone. 

“I do love a man with a plan,” Poe replied flirtatiously, reaching out to cup Finn’s cheek. His thumb swiped over his cheekbone before he looked back to Rey and gave her a single nod. 

“Later, lovebirds.” 

And with that, and a silent _thank you_ mouthed to Finn as he left the dance floor, they were gone. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


The Uber back to the apartment was quiet. Ben was too tall for the backseat of the tiny Nissan and his knee kept bumping into hers, but neither attempted to continue what had been interrupted. 

Nonetheless, it was something they should talk about. Right? 

At the same time, they both blurted out—

“Rey.”

“Ben.” 

And turned to face each other in sync. Ben’s face softened immediately and he ducked his head, shaking it quickly before looking back up at her with a sheepish smile. She wanted to cup his face the way Poe had cupped Finn’s, so intimate and easy. 

“You first,” Ben said. 

Rey breathed out a laugh and could feel the nerves twisting around in her belly. She didn’t know for sure if she wanted to put words to a moment that felt too precious to name, didn’t know if she wanted to shine a light on it for fear of him sinking back into the shadows.

After all, It wasn’t like she hadn’t been left behind before. Maybe it was all better to keep it like this, happy in his company and under his intense gaze, than to tell him exactly how it made her feel when he almost kissed her. 

She wasn't even sure if she could—the feeling seemed indescribable. 

“Do you—um,” she blinked a few times, wringing her hands together in her lap. “Do you want to watch Game of Thrones when we get home? Make hot chocolate?” 

Rey watched as Ben’s face transformed into something she wasn’t expecting—something not unlike disappointment. It was nearly imperceptible, the tiny downward turn to his features, but she caught it just before he shifted back into an easy smile. 

“Of course,” he breathed, and leaned back further into his seat. 

“What were you going to say?”

He waved a dismissive hand and gave her a sideways glance, still with that half-smile she’d come to adore.

“Nevermind.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Ben stayed a few paces behind her on their way from the car to the elevator. 

Then they stood, shoulder-to-shoulder in the lobby as they waited, watching the dial above the bronze doors move closer and closer to the far left as it made its way down. 

She could see Ben working his jaw out of the corner of her eye, but he remained silent beside her. 

When the doors opened and revealed no one inside, Rey gulped. 

It was a long ride up to the penthouse on a normal day, but here, standing inches away from him in the enclosed space, after almost kissing him less than thirty minutes ago, was torturous. 

How she wanted to be brave. To risk. To trust that she wasn’t going to end up heartbroken if she allowed herself to be vulnerable—just this once. Rey took a deep breath and decided that if anyone deserved her bravery, her trust, her _heart_ , it was the man standing next to her. 

“Ben—” 

It was all she needed to say before Ben was backing her up against the wall of the elevator, breathing heavily through his nostrils as his gaze flickered wildly between her eyes and her mouth. When he didn’t move on her immediately, she realized that he was waiting. Waiting for her permission, for the confirmation that she wanted this as much as he did. 

She gave him the tiniest nod, and then his lips crashed into hers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [the song Ben and Rey danced to](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B3Nnrj6i9Vk) (blame it on Bly)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all are staying safe this holiday season! I'm planning to update this a few times before the end of the year (would ideally like to finish it by then, too), so thank you in advance for all comments/kudos that will act as motivation. I love reading what you think and literally just gush every time I see a new one. So thank you, thank you, thank you. 
> 
> I also wrote a smutty oneshot in honor of Ben's birthday month (if Adam thinks Ben's a Scorpio, then Ben is a Scorpio) where Ben and Rey are married and sickeningly in love and also _ridiculously_ horny. Read it [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27640171)!
> 
> Thank you to Ana and Sam for the beta reads! 
> 
> p.s. This is basically a PWP chapter and was also kind of unplanned, but here we are ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

For the rest of her life, Rey will remember the way Ben backed her up against the elevator wall when his mouth met hers for the first time. 

  
She'll remember how the cold metal felt icy against the material of her shirt. She'll remember how his hands held her like she was precious. Like she was everything. 

His kiss was unpracticed in an endearing sort of way, coupled with the frenzied movements of his hands as they swept down her body. It was so perfectly _him_ —soft and violent, uncomplicated and intricate, a wondrous dichotomy that felt like another piece of his endless puzzle falling into place. 

It was a terrifying and thrilling feeling that coursed through her body as he kissed and kissed her, like she was teetering at the edge of her life before, looking down into the possibility of what it could become if she stayed right here, in his arms. 

Rey was a pragmatic person. It was a quality that she’d adapted by force, given no other choice but to self-preserve, to find a way to survive by any means necessary, and Ben was a risk. He was unpredictable—he had the potential to devolve into something monstrous. Something that could break her if given the opportunity.

There was no reason to hedge her bets on the idea that this would be their always, this perfect bubble of middle ground, a solace that she’d grown used to while living under his roof, sharing lazy days with him on the couch, drying the dishes that he washed, folding his t-shirts and briefs when they were still warm from the dryer. 

It wouldn’t be like this forever. Nothing good ever stayed. 

But pragmatism, in all its rational, logical glory, was something that seemed easy to forget when Ben’s tongue licked the seam of her mouth. Rey let him in without hesitation—with zero thought to any consequence. 

“I never want to stop kissing you,” Ben sighed when they eventually came up for air, his forehead resting against hers. 

The elevator stopped, reminding them both that they were still in public. Rey watched as the doors slid open, and smiled. “Shall we?” 

They walked hand-in-hand down the hallway, both sneaking glances every few steps. Once inside, Rey locked the door with haste and turned around to find Ben right there, squatting slightly so he could lift her into his arms. Rey squeaked but recovered quickly, wrapping her jean-clad legs around his waist and relishing for a moment in being eye-level with him. 

There were few things better, she’d come to realize, than looking into Ben’s eyes. 

He carried her with ease to the island, kissing her lips and face and neck and ears, leaving a trail of warmth and want in his path. Soon, she was resting on top of the cold marble with him between her legs, and Ben’s hands cupped her face as he resumed his mission to consume her mouth in every possible way. Their tongues slid together feverishly, eliciting moans that were lost in the echoed hollows of their throats. 

When Ben’s hips bucked and ground into her clothed center, Rey gasped. 

His lips tore away from hers at the sound, and she frowned at the separation, opening her eyes slowly to see why on _earth_ he wasn’t kissing her anymore. 

She found him with a heaving chest, looking alarmed as his worried gaze flickered between her eyes and her mouth. 

“Was that okay?” he asked, gripping her waist a little tighter. 

Rey looked down, first surveying how his hands encompassed the entirety of her torso and nearly losing her breath at the sight, and then noticed the bulge in his jeans that was hovering next to the apex of her thighs. Her arms, which were wrapped around his neck, pulled him closer, forcing every part of them to be flush.

“Please don’t stop,” was all she said back, urging his lips back to hers. 

He obeyed without question. 

They made out like lovesick teenagers for countless minutes, rubbing against each other with stuttered hips and pleasured grunts, and Rey decided early on that if he asked, she would probably let him take her to bed. The thought of him above her—staring down at her with those sweet, piercing eyes as he pushed into her—was amplifying whatever wetness had already accumulated between her legs. 

“I want you.” Rey breathed the words as Ben’s mouth marked the outline of her jaw, his tongue sliding against her skin like he was trying to catalogue the taste of every inch.

He moaned against her and Rey squeezed her legs tighter around him, arousal shooting through her belly and limbs at the sound. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that,” he admitted softly, rising to his full height. The boyish grin that spread onto his lips was beautiful—hopeful and eager and full of everything Rey could ever want.

Honesty. Desire. Excitement. 

Love. 

A loud, intruding buzzing interrupted them from a couple feet away and they both jumped, looking over at the culprit. It was Rey’s, and it made sense that Ben would reach for it given he was closer to it and had longer limbs in general, but the second he looked down at the screen and the joy seemed to leak out of his expression, she wished that she’d gotten to it first. Whatever it was, it was causing his eyebrows to knit together in concern and his jaw to flex, and he was taking as many steps back as he could so they would no longer be touching.

There was a pit opening up in Rey’s stomach as she bit her lip. “What is it?” 

Ben held the phone tightly, staring daggers into the device that looked tiny in his hands. She leaned forward to glance at the screen and, even from upside down, understood immediately the reason for his shift in demeanor. 

The notification was brief—it showed only a preview of the message that Palpatine had included in his email, but it was enough. 

**Sheev Palpatine**

_I’ve been informed that you and Ren are now dancing partners. I hope that this was all part of your plan..._

It cut off right there, creating a sharp, jagged point.

Rey watched Ben’s face shift minutely into something more angry than hurt, and then his eyes drifted up to hers and she felt herself go cold. 

It wasn’t Ben staring back at her. 

“What’s he talking about?” he bit out, and she was dumbstruck as she shook her head, willing rational thought to return to her brain before she said something monumentally stupid. 

“I told you—they—he asked me to come back to help you recover—” 

Ben shook his head frantically and shoved the phone into her hand. 

“Tell me the truth, Rey. What does he mean ‘ _part of your plan_?’” 

“Please,” she reached out a hand toward him, but he ignored it. Rey soldiered on, nostrils flared. “He’s an asshole, Ben. He—he just wants you back to who you used to be. It’s the only way he sees you as…useful, I guess.” 

She watched an array of emotions weave through his features. Confusion, anger, frustration—sadness. Rey wished that he would let her reach for him. That he would reach back. He didn’t, and instead remained still, stuck on one tile with his hands shoved into his pockets and his eyes looking away from her. 

_Don’t shut me out_ , she wanted to scream. He wanted the truth, and she’d give him anything he wanted if it meant he wouldn’t ignore her hand when it reached for him.

“I agreed to help because they offered to pay my tuition and double my salary. You and I—our relationship was…tumultuous. I didn’t come back after quitting the way I did because I felt some shred of loyalty to you. I wanted the money. Needed it.” 

Ben swallowed hard and his eyes fell to his shoes. Rey slid off the counter slowly and stepped into his space without asking. She didn’t touch him, but she tilted her head so that she was within his line of sight. 

“I had no idea that you were going to wake up and be _you_ , Ben.” 

Still nothing. Rey’s heart started to thud and a lump was quickly forming in her throat. 

“They asked me to try to help you recover—to get you back to the man you were, and I failed. I continue to fail, actually.” Rey shook her head. 

If only he knew how desperate she felt when Palpatine asked her to stop considering Ben as part of the picture—to stop nurturing him and focus only on bringing back the man that brought in millions of dollars to the firm every year. If only he knew how terrible she was at choosing the job over him, at pushing forward on any mission that would put him at risk. It was as easy as breathing to protect him now that she was neck-deep in this, and she needed him to understand that. 

“What I’ve learned over the last few weeks is that you’re never going to be fully Ben Solo or fully Kylo Ren ever again,” Rey said resolutely. 

Finally— _finally_ —Ben’s eyes met hers. They held a question that she was more than ready to answer. 

“You’re so much more. I didn’t know you before everything happened with your family—but I knew the person you were when you woke up in that hospital. You’re not him now, and you’re _definitely_ not Kylo. Your heart…whatever part of it that broke and allowed you to become that unfeeling, ruthless person—it got fixed.” 

She watched as tears began to well up in his eyes. 

“You’re somewhere in between now,” she said, softer. “You’re somehow this beautiful cross between the sweetest man and the most devilish man I’ve ever known and I—” Rey trailed off, shaking her head like she couldn’t quite believe the words that were spilling from her lips. Ben watched her intently. 

“I like you so much that I can hardly see straight.” 

He blew out a deep breath through his nose at her admission. It made Rey more nervous than she already was, watching him process her words. It wasn’t often that she waxed poetic about her _feelings_ , but that look on his face when he’d read the email—there was nothing she wouldn’t have done to get rid of all that hurt in his eyes. 

It was still lingering there as Ben’s eyes bore into hers. “What if I’m not?” he asked in a rough voice. 

“Not what?”

He squared his jaw. “What if I’m not this perfect guy you think I am? What if I hurt you? What if that person that hurt so many other people is still in here?” His hand reached up and rested it over his heart. Ben’s lips pressed into a tight line and Rey watched as he contemplated the same possibility she’d been struggling with for weeks. 

Rey stepped forward, nearly pressing their bodies together. She covered his hand with her own, gripping onto his palm. “I never said you were perfect,” she whispered, and squeezed. “I said you’re _more_. More than either of the men that you used to be.” 

A tear slid down Ben’s cheek as he looked down at their joined hands. 

“I don’t know what’s going to happen in six months, or six years—I don’t know how many of your memories you’ll recover and how many will stay in the darkness,” she breathed, reaching up with her free hand to swipe at the tear and cup his cheek. A jolt of electricity, of adoration and all the things in between shot through her as Ben leaned into her touch. “But I know I want to be there for you through it all.” 

His eyes slid shut and two more fat tears escaped the lids, but Rey had no time to wipe them away before Ben was surging down to kiss her. His hands cupped her cheeks as he pressed his lips against hers in a gentle sort of way that stirred something deep in her gut. Ben’s hands slid from her face down her back until he was cupping her ass, and Rey sighed against his mouth when she felt him squeeze. He lifted her just as she opened for him, stoking that deep, aching fire within her with every touch of his tongue against hers, and _this—_ this feeling right here, Rey thought, was worth every piece of truth and risk and gamble that she’d made to get here. 

Rey’s arms wrapped around his neck as their frenzied exchange continued. The taste of bourbon on his tongue was faint but still present, mixed with the natural flavor of his mouth to create a heady combination that was making her dizzier by the second. They were standing in the middle of the kitchen with no leverage except Ben’s arms and, though she knew that he was probably strong enough to maintain her weight for a prolonged period of time, she had a different idea in mind. 

Their mouths separated and Ben reeled for a moment at the loss, following her lips as they left his. Rey smiled when he opened his eyes and pressed their foreheads together. She exhaled long and slow through her nose. 

“Do you want to take me to bed?” she asked softly. 

Ben swallowed thickly, his eyes intense and burning, and nodded. 

He carried her down the hallway to his bedroom, stopping every few feet to push her up against the wall and moan into her mouth as he sucked on her lips and pressed their bodies together. The space felt different now that they were occupying it this way. It had been her home for nearly two weeks but didn’t truly feel like it until now, quiet except for the sounds of their labored breathing and the thump of Rey’s back each time Ben pushed it up against a new surface. It dawned on her as he lay her carefully across his mattress that maybe it was him that she’d found a home in, not the apartment. 

That thought did something to her as Ben stood over her, still fully clothed in that delicious white henley and those dark jeans that hugged his hips just right. Her heart was beating wildly, a heavy, pleasant ache settled low in her belly as their eyes locked, his dark and feverish and _hungry_ and she was thankful that there was already a light on because she wanted—needed—to see those eyes. She wanted to look right into them as he fucked her. 

Slowly, he started to unbuckle his belt and jeans. When they were undone, he gripped the shirt collar from behind his neck and pulled it over his head, leaving his impressive chest and torso exposed. His skin was pale and dotted with more of the same beauty marks that were scattered all over his face and shoulders. Rey’s breath hitched at the sight of him, the expanse of his back and his arms, buzzing with excitement at the idea of them being wrapped around her soon. She reached out a hand for him, beckoning him back to the bed where she lay, and within seconds, he obliged. 

It was an unhurried affair, despite the urgent throbbing between Rey’s legs. Ben took his time with her, kissing her until her chest was heaving with desire and then trailing a ghost-like line with his fingers down her body until he reached the waistband of her jeans. He kept his focus solely on kissing her as he unbuttoned and unzipped them, pushing them far enough down her hips so his entire hand could cup her through her cotton thong. 

Rey felt his fingers graze her inner lips and sighed. Ben moaned into her mouth before tearing his lips away and panting against her cheek. He pushed the material to the side without ceremony and slid a thick finger down her slit, letting out a shuddered breath as he passed over her soaked entrance. 

“ _Sweetheart_ ,” he breathed. “You’re so wet.” 

Rey bucked her hips into his hand and Ben didn’t make her work for it—he rewarded her instantly by thumbing at her slippery clit. Her head pressed back against the mattress as he touched her, lost to the bliss of it all. 

It was a miracle that she was able to find her bearings enough to remove her shirt and bra, which she did quickly and gracelessly, getting stuck in the too-tight neck of the top and nearly breaking the clasp of her bra. Eventually, she was free of them, tossing them onto the floor without a care. When she turned her attention back to Ben, he was staring at her naked form with unabashed reverence. He was careful with her as he leaned down and closed his mouth around an already-hard nipple. He pushed his thick middle finger inside of her as his tongue lapped at her breast, tracing the sensitive areola and groaning when she arched her back, pressing them further into his mouth. 

“God, I want to fuck you,” he sighed against her collarbone. 

Rey’s hands found his hair, scraping his scalp with her nails and Ben hissed. Every part of her was moving in tandem with him, yearning for his touch and his attention, ready to give him whatever he wanted to take. 

“Please,” she whispered. 

Another finger pushed into her sopping cunt. “I want you to come like this first.” 

Her head pressed harder against the sheets as she shook it, moving her hands to grip his shoulders. The sensation was unbelievable—the simultaneous effort of his massive fingers fucking her and his delicate thumb weaving breathtaking patterns against her clit—but Rey knew what she wanted. She’d known since he kissed her in the elevator. 

Maybe before that, too, if she was being honest. 

“Ben,” she squeezed his biceps, stilling his movements. He paused and looked at her, patient and open and warm, and she wanted to kiss him again, just for that look. Instead, she swallowed the urge, and spoke her truth. “I want to come with you inside me.” 

He blinked a few times, unmoving. She bit her lip. “I want you to feel it, how hard I’m going to come for you. Will you let me?” 

“ _Jesus Christ,_ ” Ben breathed as he stood up to make quick work of both of their remaining clothing. 

She picked up her head slightly to survey, and was shocked and simultaneously unsurprised at the sight. Every part of Ben was big, so she’d expected that this would be no exception, but it didn’t make it any less jarring, seeing it with her own eyes. 

He was _huge_. Rey probably wouldn’t even be able to close her fingers around him, let alone deep throat him. A bundle of nerves sprouted behind her ribs at that thought, but it was accompanied by her mouth literally _watering_ at the idea of trying. 

“Do I need—” he murmured, bringing her back to the moment. He looked panicked for a second, eyes moving to the nightstand.

Rey shook her head. “Implant.” 

He nodded. “Okay,” he said softly, and started climbing up her body. When they were face to face, he grinned, and warmth bloomed in her chest. No one had ever smiled at her like that. It was becoming...exceedingly apparent the more minutes that passed that Rey definitely more than _liked_ him, as she’d claimed. 

“You’re sure?” he asked, hooking one of his arms under hers and caressing the hair near her forehead. She nodded resolutely. She was so sure she was about to _burst_. 

Ben leaned down to kiss her, his free hand moving between their bodies to grip himself and align with her center. His tongue swept against hers at the same time as the silky, thick head of his cock pressed against her entrance, and Rey’s eyes fluttered shut. 

He slid home with one long, gentle thrust, barely having to work himself into her with how much she was dripping. They sighed in unison as he bottomed out, pressed flush against her body as his arm mirrored his other, hooking under her shoulder blade and using both of his palms to cradle her face. 

It wasn’t like Rey had never had sex before. She’d had quite a bit of it, actually, especially during undergrad. With her younger years spent in and out of group and foster homes, there wasn’t a ton of room for...exploration, so most of her younger desires were repressed, only to rear their heads later with a vengeance. Independence and promiscuity basically went hand-in-hand after she turned eighteen. 

She’d fucked and been fucked.

She’d never made love. 

As Ben rolled his hips into hers, dragging his hard, throbbing cock against her inner walls, pulling out almost completely and sliding back in, she knew that this was different than all of those two a.m. mistakes, those loveless rendezvous that only ever ended in her gathering her belongings and leaving without saying goodbye. 

This was making love. Ben was making love to her. 

“ _Rey_ ,” Ben sighed into her neck as he buried his head there. “You feel so fucking good.”

Rey’s legs lifted and wrapped around his middle, her heels digging into his haunches. She started to meet him thrust for thrust, lifting her hips to meet his, moving as one in the twilit room. She pushed his hair out of his face with gentle fingers and when he moaned at the sensation of her nails against his scalp, Rey clenched around him. 

Making him feel good—seeing it all over his face—turned her on like nothing else. She could feel her impending orgasm down to her toes when Ben snaked a hand down her stomach and pressed the pad of his index finger against her swollen clit. Her eyes rolled back as he started to rub it in time with each of his intoxicating thrusts. He was pounding into her now, panting against her lips, eyes boring into hers. 

The wet slap that echoed in his bedroom every time his hips met hers was obscene and filthy and Rey loved it, loved hearing the sounds of them, the litany of his breathy _fuck_ or his broken groan when he was as deep as he could get. It was all swimming around in her head, swirling together with the outright ecstasy of the way his body seemed to fit perfectly with hers. Rey was catapulting to her end; she felt goosebumps start to rise on her flesh and a tingle at the base of her spine, and with his eyes on her like that, she knew that it in mere _seconds,_ she would be a goner. 

And then Ben choked out the words, "Come for me, sweetheart," and Rey's mouth fell open in a silent cry, her entire body reaching for oblivion. In her ear—in a broken, raspy voice, he said, "Let me feel it. I want to fuck you through every second of it." 

At his words, she fell. Tumbled. Dove, perhaps, into a place she'd never been before. The feeling spread slowly, like it was taking its time to reach every single molecule she possessed. Rey's eyes were screwed shut and her mouth was wide open as the orgasm rocked her entire body. It made her stiffen at first, the shock of it, and then it was like every part of her was vibrating. Her limbs started to twitch and shake as she reached the peak of it—and indescribable pleasure that was so intense there were tears forming in the corners of her eyes. When she could finally breathe, she let out a long, satisfied cry in Ben's ear, realizing only then that he was holding her—squeezing her as tight as he could as he continued to fuck her, just like he promised. 

"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered with a face full of awe. "I want to make you come like that again." He punctuated the sentence with a hard thrust, and Rey gasped, still half-present in the aftershocks of her orgasm. "And again, and again, and again." Each time he said it, he slid into her, fucking her into the mattress as he stuttered through his sweet nothings. "A thousand times wouldn't be enough." 

Rey reached up and pushed another rogue lock of his raven hair out of his face. It appeared that he quite liked when she did that, and she would take any excuse to run her fingers through his hair. The pleasure that ebbed under her skin had mellowed, but—the way he was falling apart, the way his hips were starting stutter and his eyes couldn't help but screw tightly shut, it made her want to be pliant and open, made her want to carry him through it just as he had with her. 

"Are you gonna come inside me?" she asked in a low, sensual tone. 

Ben's eyes flew open. His face twisted like it was almost in pain, and it was evident that he definitely liked the idea. "Do you want me to?"

Rey nodded quickly, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck. "Yeah. I want you to fill me up." 

" _Fuck,_ " he groaned as he started to come, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. 

“I love the way you fuck me, Ben,” Rey wheezed, cupping one of his cheeks in her hand. Ben groaned and buried his head in the crook of her neck as he pulsed inside of her. She could feel him fill her to the brim with his cum, could feel it seeping out of her and trickling onto the sides of her thighs. She sighed with him as his thrusts became languorous, and the magic of it all, the intense intimacy that she'd never before experienced, it all bubbled up in her throat and she blurted out, “You fuck me like you lo—” 

He picked his head up and locked eyes with her, and Rey’s words died in her throat. She could still feel his spend dripping down her butt and thighs and his cock still throbbing inside of her as Ben's gaze shifted into something heartbreakingly beautiful. The smile that crept slowly onto his lips made her heart surge, made her want to finish her sentence. She didn't.

Ben leveled her completely with two words before she could even open her mouth. 

“I do.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/irridesca)!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close to the end. 😰
> 
> Thank you to Ana and Sam for the beta! ♥

The two words that spilled out of Rey’s mouth upon Ben telling her that he loved her for the first time were as natural as a reflex—like a knee-jerk, brought on by years of questioning her own worth. 

“You do?” 

Ben huffed. He shook his head, tightening his hold on her. “You have no idea, do you?” 

The wrinkle between Rey’s eyebrows deepened, and Ben looked at it before leaning forward to press a soft, featherlight kiss right on top of it. 

“Everything about you—” he broke off, swallowing hard. “I’m in love with. All of you. Every single piece.” He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to each of her eyebrows. “The way you burn every grilled cheese, even on a nonstick skillet.” A kiss to her temples. “The way you hum while you brush your teeth.” One to the tip of her nose. “The way you wiggle your toes in your socks when a part comes on Game of Thrones that you love.” One to each cheek. 

He picked his head up then—his eyes sparkled in the lowlight as he looked at her, as he saw her for everything she was, even the parts of her she didn’t think anyone ever noticed. 

“The way you care about everyone around you. The way you fight for them,” his head hung slightly, lips pressing together. “For me.” 

Rey was overcome. Tears had welled in her eyes the moment he’d said _I do,_ and they’d started to spill in earnest now, hot enough to burn as they slid down her cheeks. She reached up to cradle his face in her hands, tilting his head so she could look into his eyes. 

She could see clearly now that the sparkle there was just the shine of his own tears. 

“I woke up in a world I didn’t belong in. In a darkness that I couldn’t understand. But you—” he rasped, “You were my light. You saved me.” He shook his head gently. “I was always going to love you, Rey. It was inevitable.” 

With his words, it felt like Ben had reached into Rey’s chest and pieced something she thought was irreparable back together. The way he said them, like they were irrefutable, made her quiet tears turn into an outright sob, the sound bubbling up from her throat and out of her mouth. 

“Ben, I—” she gasped, voice broken. 

He shook his head again, more adamantly this time. “You don’t have to say anything,” he assured. “I just needed you to know.” 

Rey’s mouth clamped shut. Their gazes stayed locked, neither moving from their position even as Ben softened inside her. She knew that they needed to get up eventually—she needed to pee and eliminate any UTIs in her future and he needed to change his sheets—but she couldn’t bring herself to move. Not when he was looking at her like that. 

Maybe she wouldn’t say the thing she needed to say right then. It felt too overwhelming to do so, to confirm the suspicions that had been floating around in her head since she moved in. It felt too perfect—too good—and in Rey’s experience, that kind of perfect was always temporary. 

“I want to,” she said softly. “It’s just—” Her eyes slid shut, and she could feel Ben’s thumbs as they softly stroked her cheekbones. “Everything I’ve ever loved—except Finn—has been taken from me. So maybe if I don’t tell you—if I don’t say it, you won’t get taken, too.” 

A smile ghosted over Ben’s lips at her admission—an understanding, gentle thing that squeezed at Rey’s insides. Of course he would get it; of course he would accept that she had baggage, that this was harder for her than it was for most people. 

That look on his face, the unconditional acceptance, allowed the next words out of her mouth to be said with ease, with hope, despite their implication. 

“I feel it, though,” she whispered. “Even if I can’t say it. I feel it.” 

His smile grew, and he leaned forward slowly to press his lips to hers. 

They separated after a few more long minutes of holding each other, and Ben’s crooked smirk reappeared as he stood up from the bed. “Shower with me?” 

It was an easy question to answer. Rey nodded happily and reached out a hand, which Ben promptly grabbed and used to pull her into his chest with a grin. He lifted her off the bed like it was nothing and set her on her feet, that same cocky half-smile still on his lips. 

The way that smile made her feel deep in her chest was unlike anything she’d ever known. The way his arms wrapped safety and reassurance and adoration around her, the way they made her never want to be anywhere else. 

Maybe she was always going to love him, too. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


In the morning, Ben fucked her from behind with a slow, languid roll of his hips. She came so hard that he had to hold her still, her back pressed against his chest. 

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered in her ear as she panted, still riding the wave with her eyes screwed shut and her mouth wide open. “You’re so pretty when you come.” 

After that, it was like a dam had broken. Shattered. Obliterated, really, considering how many times he made her come in a span of twelve hours. 

He spent a good chunk of the morning with his head between her legs, discovering what he could do with his tongue to make her whine, make her clamp her legs around his head when he licked a part of her that was too sensitive from the onslaught of orgasms. 

When they finally came up for air, it was nearly lunch time. Rey was sated—sprawled out on the bed with a heaving chest and a wide, satisfied smile on her face. Ben was beside her, propped up on his elbow, just watching her experience the entire spectrum of emotion that went alongside coming more times than you can count. 

“Where’d you learn to do all of that?” Rey asked breathily. Ben’s hand was spread out over her chest, large enough to span across both of her breasts. She rested a hand against his as she peeked up at him. 

He smiled and lifted his eyebrows. “Some of my memories are more useful than others.” 

Rey giggled and nodded. “You could write a how-to manual on oral sex.” 

Ben’s cheeks started to pink, his smile turning bashful. Rey sat up a little. “I mean that in a good way," she assured. "I will never complain about you wanting to do that. It just seems like you really love it—” 

“You,” he supplied, cutting her off. His eyes were soft as he looked at her, watching as her mouth slowly shut. “I really love _you_. And making you feel good.” 

Ben spent the rest of the afternoon proving that statement, as if she didn’t already believe him. As if he hadn’t been the most attentive lover that she’d ever had, the most kind, caring, considerate one that made her feel sexy and wanted and _loved_. 

Lunch was necessary for refuel, and though the apartment was empty of any real food, Ben insisted on not leaving. He managed to compile a plate with offerings from the fridge, half-eaten blocks of cheese, a few pieces of deli ham and a handful of pickles, which he hated but knew Rey loved. They took bites of the rudimentary cheeseboard between kisses, polishing off most of it before Ben picked up one of the pickle chips and held it up to Rey’s mouth. She sucked on it and his finger at the same time, moaning around it as he watched with his mouth hanging open, and well—that was that for lunch. 

By sunset, they were ravenous. 

“I need pizza,” Rey whined, her naked form spread out onto the chaise lounge where she’d just been fucked into the cushion so hard that it was hanging off of the couch, threatening to fall onto the floor and bring her with it. “Please feed me pizza.” 

She heard Ben chuckle from the kitchen where he was fetching her a glass of water. “Anything you want, sweetheart. Pepperoni and extra mushrooms?” he asked as he walked over to her, reaching down to push the cushion back into place with one hand. 

Rey sat up and took the water from him, nodding. “Yes, please.” 

They ordered two larges, Rey’s pepperoni and a barbecue chicken for Ben, and within the hour, they’d both inhaled more than half of their respective pies. They leaned back into the couch, both groaning about how stuffed they were, and Ben picked up Rey’s legs to rest on his lap. He kept his hands on her knees, rubbing idle little circles into her bare skin. 

A moment of quiet spent together among the frenzy of pleasure and excitement felt right—they sat in silence in the living room as warm lamplight made Ben’s eyes look gold, and Rey felt it again—that squeeze in her chest, that safety and warmth that came with home. 

She’d never known it before, and it was _devastating_ , how good it felt. Better than the sex, somehow. She wanted to bask in it, to live in it and never leave. 

Rey reached out a hand to run her fingers through Ben’s hair, loving the way his eyes slowly slid shut at the feeling. He leaned into her touch like he always did, and when he finally opened his eyes again, the look in them was thoughtful. Pensive, almost. 

“What is it?” 

He swallowed, nuzzling his cheek further into her hand. “I think I’m ready to go back,” he said after a beat. “To the office. To work.” 

She sat up a little straighter. “Yeah?”

Ben’s brows knit together as he nodded. “I want to know the truth about who I was,” he explained. His eyes left hers and he looked down at his hands, still holding her knees in a gentle embrace. “The whole truth. And I won’t be able to until I know everything that I did.” 

Rey leaned forward slightly, her hand moving from his hair to his cheek. She pressed a gentle thumb into where she knew his dimple would be. “It wasn’t you.” 

“It was,” he cut in. “If I’m ever going to do better, do _good_ , I need to stop pretending like I was never a monster. The parts I remember, the bits that have come back about my cases I—” he trailed off, lips pressing into a tight, frustrated line. “I need to right these wrongs. There are so many of them.” 

It was weighing on his heart more than she’d realized. There was a melancholic level of sincerity in his tone, a hint of desperation in his eyes that said there was no alternative to this plan. Stubbornness was a trait that he held onto as both Kylo and Ben. 

Rey sucked in a deep breath through her nose. “Okay,” she said resolutely. “Let’s go back.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


There was a thunderstorm coating the city in shades of grey the day they returned to the office. 

She’d sent an email to Palpatine the day before, letting him know to expect them the following morning, and had received a cryptically enthusiastic response in return. Something along the lines of _‘we can’t wait to see your smiling faces’_ , that was as unsettling as it was odd. 

In any case, they were doing it, and they were doing it together. Ben was wearing a dark blue Kiton that hugged every inch of his body perfectly—as it should, all of his suits were bespoke—and looked every bit the part, minus the mop of dark hair that was nearly touching his shoulders now and the five o’clock shadow on his chin. Rey clung to those attributes; they seemed innocuous, but felt like the only things that were separating Ben from Kylo as he marched into the lobby of their building with his head high, his confidence seeming to grow with each tap of his red-bottomed shoes against the shining marble. 

Once inside the walls of the firm, they were greeted with a stunned silence. Wide eyes and gaping mouths spread on the faces that littered the floor, and no one seemed to know exactly how to react. Rey and Ben stood still at the head of the large room—Ben’s eyes roamed the perimeter, taking in his surroundings with a neutral, careful expression on his face. To an unknowing bystander, the tick of his jaw and the slight stiffening in his shoulders would probably go unnoticed. Rey saw them for what they were—nerves covered in stress, overstimulation too, perhaps, and she wished in that moment that she could reach out and grab his hand. 

She wanted to let him know that he wasn’t alone, that she was standing right beside him. 

“Hey,” she said softly, only for his ears. Slowly, he tore his gaze away from the crowd and looked at her. He looked young, his face on the edge of fear, and she managed a reassuring smile in return. “You got this. C’mon, let’s go to your office.” 

With a single nod, they started toward the back corner, Rey leading the way with Ben at her back. They ignored the whispering that had replaced the quiet, the murmured questions that were too low to make out. Rose, the only face Rey actually wanted to see, was at her desk, standing and smiling at them both. 

“Welcome back, Mr. Ren,” she said sweetly. Rey suppressed a grimace at the name and looked over her shoulder at Ben as he took it in stride, a small smile and nod, leaving Rose and the rest of the observers none the wiser. 

They’d nearly made it to his office when a booming, dreadful voice echoed across the room. 

“Ren! Were you really just going to walk past my office without saying hello?”

Ben and Rey turned quickly to see Snoke propped up against the doorway of his office, arms folded over his chest. He looked smug and bore a nasty, unkind smile as he looked Ben up and down with a kink in his eyebrow.

“Decided to forgo your groomer, I see,” he sneered, and Rey felt her ears start to get hot. 

“I’ve had other things on my mind,” Ben replied. His back was to her, but she could hear the tightness in his voice and see the rigidity in his posture. He stuck his hands into his pockets, and Rey wondered if it was to conceal the fact that they were clenched into white-knuckled fists. 

“Ahh, yes,” Snoke mused, pushing off from the door frame and walking slowly toward them. The other partners—that Rey would have been happy to never see again—had started to congregate a few feet away, all watching with curious, amused expressions. “Learning to read and walk again must have been quite the feat. Good thing you had young Rey here to help you through all of that.” 

Rey took a step forward, now shoulder-to-shoulder with Ben. “Yes, good thing,” she retorted in a clipped tone, hoping—though she knew it was unlikely—that he’d back off. 

He didn’t. Instead, that terrible smile grew, and he threw up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, hey, I don’t mean anything by that. Just glad that our assistants are so…dedicated. I wonder,” he tapped his chin, pursing his lips. “What other things she must have... _assisted_ you with.” 

It shouldn’t have surprised her that he could handle this—he’d handled Snoke before with an unexpected ease—but she still watched with concealed awe as Ben drew his hands out from his pockets and folded his arms over his chest, that neutral expression turning into something that looked almost _dangerous_. There was a smile on his lips but it wasn’t like Snoke’s, it looked calculating, like he was five steps ahead of everyone in the room. 

“Anything else?” he asked evenly. 

Snoke’s expression was unchanged. “Happy to have you back, Ren. And in good health.” 

“Much appreciated.” Ben started to turn on his heel, a jerk of his chin letting Rey know to follow. 

“Oh, actually,” Snoke said, stopping both of them in their tracks. “I’m sure you’ve heard that Tim Deveroux is in custody.” Rey’s heart started to thump at the mention. She didn’t know where this was going, but she knew it would be nowhere good. “I take it you’d like to see him. Look him in the eye before you destroy him in court.” 

Rey saw an out. She looked at Ben. “I can arrange that—”

Snoke cut her off without so much as a glance in her direction. “Quite the sob story, that one, wouldn’t you say? Lost his daughter, his house, his wife is divorcing him too, from what I hear—” a disingenuous frown crept onto his face. “You’d think, with all that,” he sighed, shaking his head, and then leveled his glare at Ben. “That he would have had the balls to finish the job.” 

He said the words like a lawyer—like they were all just facts and figures, a truth that to him seemed undeniable, despite its viciousness. His tone was even, as if to hide the hatred that lingered beneath the surface, and Rey could feel her nostrils start to flare. It felt like her blood was boiling beneath her skin. She wanted to smack that fake sympathy right off of his face, to claw his eyes out and rid the world of his evil, soulless spirit. 

“We’ve got quite a busy day ahead, as you can imagine,” she managed instead, reaching out to squeeze Ben’s shoulder. He was stock-still, staring at Snoke, the two of them playing chicken. “Perhaps you two can continue this lovely conversation over lunch soon.” 

Snoke’s eyes narrowed, drifting slowly to Rey’s. His brow bounced, amused yet again. “Perhaps,” he agreed, and then turned on his heel to walk back to his office. 

Ben didn’t move, even as Snoke’s door shut behind him. Rey glanced at him, concern knitting her brow and her hand still gripping his shoulder. 

“C’mon,” she said quietly, taking a couple of slow steps toward the solace of his corner office. After a few long moments, he turned and followed, his eyes on his shoes. 

Once they were inside, Ben let out a long, sharp breath, one he’d obviously been holding. “He’s such a bastard,” he grumbled.

Rey nodded. “He is. But we knew that coming in, right?” 

“I guess.” His eyes stayed on the ground, lips pressing together into a tight line. “Everyone here thinks I’m—” he broke off, looking behind him toward the narrow frosted windows that flanked each side of his door. “That I’m still that person. That I’ll answer to that name. Be that man. Everyone except Snoke.” Finally, he looked at her, that lingering fear returning to his face. “He knows something is off. He’s like a fucking bloodhound.” 

“Hey.” Rey rushed forward, feeling the panic that started to vibrate off of him. She took his hands in hers and held them tightly. “It doesn’t matter. They’re going to find out eventually. You can’t just pretend to be who you were. You’re not—” 

Ben’s frown deepened. “I’m not what?” 

“You’re not capable of being that heartless. Not anymore. As soon as everyone sees that, they’ll know, too.” 

“But what you said—about Palpatine wanting you to get me back to that place. If I can’t ever go back there, what use am I to him? To this company? I need to stay here as long as I can and _fix_ everything that I can before they throw me out.” 

His face was determined; his jaw was set into a hard line, and Rey could feel the way his hands slowly stopped shaking. The look in his eyes told her that there was no arguing this—that this was what he was going to do, and he was going to be as relentless in his mission as she’d ever known Kylo Ren to be, but this time letting his heart lead him.

That, she would never fight. 

“Alright,” she said softly. 

“We need to keep them at bay for as long as we can,” he declared, giving her hands a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t let them know that anything’s changed. I can be—” he swallowed thickly. “I can be Kylo Ren for as long as it takes for me to undo his mistakes.” 

Rey nodded, ignoring the nerves that were blossoming in the pit of her stomach. 

Ben sighed, nodding too, and looked at his desk. 

“Starting with Tim Deveroux.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fact that this story is coming to an end so quickly is making me sad and happy and relieved all at the same time. It's such a strange thing to process. 
> 
> I might add a small epilogue after the last chapter depending on how things come to an end there. TBD (but probably, knowing me). 
> 
> Hope you guys like this - let me know what you think! 
> 
> Thanks to Ana and Sam for the beta <3

The hours leading up to lunchtime at the firm were tense, full of loaded quiet—of unanswered questions and skeptical glares. The name placard that announced to the world that the office belonged to Kylo Ren still hung next to the heavy door, and since they’d agreed on keeping with the status quo, Rey was sitting exactly where she would be sitting under normal circumstances. Alone, at her desk. She could hear him on the phone, and considering every inbound call that was meant for him would have to go through her, she knew that he had to be the one doing the dialing. Rey’s curiosity spiked but she stayed in her seat, giving Ben the space that he needed to immerse himself in every client, every wrongdoing that he’d defended. 

At half-past noon, the office door swung open. The abruptness of it made her jump, the _whooshing_ sound interrupting the otherwise quiet space. 

“Sorry,” Ben said softly as he approached her desk. 

Rey clicked out of the game of Solitaire she’d been staring at for the past twenty minutes. “What’s up?” 

After a furtive glance over each of his shoulders, Ben leaned forward. “I’m gonna head over to the jail to see Tim Deveroux. I was reading about his case and—” His chin dropped, like the weight of the words were too much to bear while also looking Rey in the eye. 

She understood without him having to explain. The Deveroux case was another brand of evil, even for Kylo. If they weren’t surrounded by people they didn’t know and surely didn’t trust, she would’ve reached forward and squeezed his hand. As it was, he was gripping her desk tightly as he gathered himself, finally picking up his head again after a deep, shaky exhale. “I need to see him in person. To apologize for what I did to his family— to look him in the eye and forgive him.” 

Something bloomed in Rey’s chest. It wasn’t just awe, or adoration, or love, but a cross between all of those things and a million others, all intertwined but pointing in the same direction. 

She was proud of him. So proud that her heart felt fit to burst. 

“Do you want me to come?” she asked quietly. 

Ben’s jaw tensed as he shook his head. “No, I’m gonna take an Uber. This is—I think I need to do this alone. Plus, it might look strange if we leave together anyway.” 

It made sense, but the logic of it all didn’t stop Rey from deflating a little at his answer. It must’ve been obvious on her face because Ben’s eyes softened, the corners of his lips tugging into a smile. “I won’t be long. An hour or two max,” he assured, leaning into her space a little further. 

Another couple of inches and he’d be too close—suspiciously so—but Rey wasn’t worried about the prying eyes that surrounded them as his cologne wafted into her nostrils, as his eyes locked with hers and said all of the things that he couldn’t say out loud. 

She could only hope that the look in her eyes said the same.

_You haven’t even left yet and I already miss you._

  
  


* * *

  
  


After hour two came and went, Rey started to get fidgety. She called him twice, both going to voicemail, and then texted him ‘ _is everything ok?’_ a few minutes after that.

Another thirty minutes passed, and still nothing. 

By hour four, the office was starting to wind down—Rey vaguely recalled the sounds of the end-of-day shuffle, people gathering their belongings, clicking out of their emails and shutting down their computers, trickling out of the front doors slowly, until she was the only one left on the main floor. Rose, for her part, had offered to stay behind and wait, but Rey had distractedly told her that she was about to pack up as well and wouldn’t be far behind. 

She was staring at her phone, at the lack of response from Ben in their text thread, when a voice pulled her out of her panic. 

“Miss Niima.” 

Rey’s gaze shot up, the familiarity of the voice sending a shiver down her spine. It was the same one she’d become heavily acquainted with over the past few months—one she would’ve been happy to never hear again. At the sight of Palpatine’s pallor, pockmarked face, Rey had to stop her lip from curling up in disgust. He always looked like he had one foot in the grave. It was as unsettling as it ever had been, especially considering she seemed to be alone with him. 

“Mr. Palpatine. How can I help you?” she asked evenly, setting her phone down. 

He straightened slightly. “I thought I might have a word with Kylo. Is he free?” 

Rey swallowed. “He’s actually out. I’m waiting for him to get back but I’m not—” she glanced at her lockscreen, her stomach dropping as she looked at the hour. “I’m not sure when that’ll be.” 

With a slow, careful nod, he said, “I see. Well, please let him know that I would like to see him as soon as possible. Alistair mentioned that he seemed a bit…off this morning.”

There was a glint of unkindness in his frigid blue eyes. They always had the tendency to make people squirm—the emptiness, the coldness in them was something unique to Palpatine—and Rey was no exception. To have them zeroing in on her and by extension, Ben, made fear start to unfurl in her gut. He was suspicious, and she had no idea what would happen if he were to find out the truth. If he were to know that Ben would never allow himself to be Kylo Ren again—would never be the man that used to walk these halls, ruthless and brutal. 

Palpatine was still staring at her, unflinching. Waiting. 

“I’m not sure what he was referring to,” Rey expressed calmly. 

A white-haired eyebrow rose. “I find that hard to believe.” 

Rey’s nostrils flared and a wave of fierce, angry protectiveness washed over her. “He’s doing the best he can,” she countered, eyes narrowing on him. “He was shot in the head for Christ’s sake. Doesn’t that deserve a little grace? Or are you incapable of that in any capacity?” 

As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted saying them. But much like her situation tended to be with Ben, instinct took over, and Rey’s instincts always pushed her to protect. To shield. To love, even if it meant putting herself at risk. 

It was his turn to narrow his eyes at her. “Careful now, girl. You’re on the verge of sounding ungrateful for all that I’ve done for you.” 

She was about ten seconds away from telling him to shove it, to stick it where the sun didn’t shine and fuck off, but she reeled it in, remembering Ben’s words from that morning. He wanted to right his wrongs, to understand the gravity of what he’d done during his time at the firm. If anyone started to suspect something was afoot with him, he’d lose access to everything. She wasn’t going to be the reason they both got fired. 

Rey let out a shaky breath, pressing her lips together before managing quiet, “I’m sorry, sir.” When he nodded, she looked at her phone again. “I’ll let him know as soon as I speak with him.” 

Palpatine tilted his head, like a predator’s slow, calculated survey of its prey. The smile that spread onto his lips was as unkind as it was troubling. Everything about this man, if he could even be considered as such, made Rey’s skin crawl. 

“Thank you,” he said, turning slowly on his heel but not taking his eyes off her. “Goodnight.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


With Palpatine’s thunderous and terrifying presence gone, Rey could refocus on the problem at hand, which was that Ben still had not returned from his visit with Tim Deveroux, and he was still not returning her calls or texts. After a call to the jail that confirmed that he’d left hours ago, the panic that had started to rise in her chest was now in full bloom. 

She left the office in a frenzy, gathering her things and anything important that he’d left behind. His car was still in the garage and she drove well over the speed limit to get to the condo, but the empty kitchen and living room that greeted her only made her anxiety worse, the pit in her stomach growing with each second that passed without word from him. Rey pulled her phone out of her back pocket and started to type, hastily shooting off a series of texts as her screen grew blurry through oncoming tears. 

_Please text me back or call me. I called the jail and they said that you left hours ago_

_I’m at home and you’re not here. I’m worried about you_

_What’s going on? Whatever it is, I can help_

_Please don’t shut me out Ben_

The phone stayed silent in her palm. Rey blinked out a few tears, letting them stream down her face without wiping them away as she pushed her back into the door and slid down. Her tote bag fell to her side, a few ballpoints rolling out onto the tile as she brought her knees to her chest. She’d give herself five minutes of desperation, of panic and sadness swirled into one terrified fist around her heart, and then she’d get up and go look for him. 

But then again, there was a loud, unforgiving part of her brain that was screaming that he was abandoning her. That he was leaving as quickly as he could and erasing her from his life because he’d realized in the short time that they’d been apart that she was _nothing_ —not good enough for him, not smart enough or rich enough or pretty enough. She couldn’t ignore this self loathing or shut it out—it was at the forefront of her thoughts and it made her want to curl into a ball and sob. It told her that looking for him would be a mistake. It told her that he didn’t want to be found, especially not by her. 

And even though it was illogical to think that Ben, who loved her, who made beautiful, gentle love to her as he held her in his arms, would flip a switch so easily—she’d _witnessed_ him do just that when he woke up in that hospital room. She’d seen how easy it was to forget. How easy it was to leave behind everything that he’d loved in his life as Kylo Ren. 

Maybe he remembered now. Maybe he suddenly recalled how much he used to loathe her. 

Maybe he wanted to go back to his life before she was part of it. 

She was curled in on herself, letting her sobs wrack through her body, giving in to the despair of losing another person she loved, when somewhere, buried deep in her consciousness, a voice fought back. It was quiet, muffled by all the destructive thoughts and scenarios she was cooking up in her brain, but it was _there_ , fighting—clawing its way to the surface. It was the same voice that told her to stop thinking like an orphan all those weeks ago when Palpatine threatened her job and her future; it was the same voice that allowed her to realize that Ben was never going to _be_ Kylo again, even if he did somehow recover every single memory he’d lost. 

It was the voice that told her to trust. To have faith, not only in him, but in herself. 

It was the voice that told her to get up off the fucking floor and find him.

Slowly, Rey picked her head up. She looked around the empty apartment that had become her home, the kitchen that she’d tried and failed to cook in more times than she could count, the living room where she’d fallen asleep against Ben’s chest only two nights before while the television hummed quietly. Something resembling a smile tugged at her lips as her eyes drifted to the hallway that led to his bedroom, where he’d fucked her slow and sweet and made her feel so good that she almost forgot what it was like to feel anything else. 

It took every ounce of strength she could muster, but she stood up, using the door for support as she gathered her things. Ben’s car keys were still in her hand and her coat was still on—she was ready to brave whatever was waiting for her outside of these walls if it meant that she’d find him. Whatever it was that he was going through, she would help him. It was easy to see now that she’d shaken off her self-destructive thoughts—there was nothing she wouldn’t do for Ben. 

Turning around, she reached forward and pulled the door open, ready to step out and resume her mission. But as she swung it back toward her, she gasped, nearly dropping her tote again. 

Ben was leaning against the doorframe, pressed into it like it was the only thing keeping him from collapsing. The hurt that was laced in his features was enough to sting. His cheeks were splotchy and red, his bottom lip and chin trembling. 

“Ben?” 

Rey’s voice sounded far away even to her, nearly breathless. Ben wasn’t looking at her; he continued to stare at the ground as he shook his head, and she could see his nostrils flaring. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his forearms and his jacket was nowhere to be seen, and the closer she looked at him, the easier it was to notice a blooming bruise at the corner of his jaw. 

“What happened?” she asked finally, hoping that she sounded calmer than she felt.

A sharp, long inhale pulled in through his nostrils. He shook his head again and said, “I’m never going to be able to make up for what I’ve done.” 

Setting her belongings down gently on the floor, Rey stepped forward, keeping her movements still and gentle. Ben looked like he was ready to run—his fight or flight reflexes were warring with each other and she could see it all over his face. As she moved into his space, Rey placed light, careful hands against the material of his shirt. 

“Ben, look at me.” 

He didn’t. Instead, he shook his head more emphatically, his grip on the doorframe so tight that it looked close to splintering. His breathing was ragged, his chest heaving. 

“Please,” she begged, sliding her hands up to his face. She cradled his cheeks in her palms, rubbing circles with her thumbs against his cheekbones. She could feel the patchy dryness of old tears—could see fresh ones coating his eyelids. “Please, just look at me.” 

In a low, gravelly voice, he said, “I remember everything.” 

Rey’s breath hitched in her throat. Her hands pulled back of their own accord, and as soon as they left his face, Ben finally looked at her. There was a cut under his right eye that sat atop a purple-grey spot that she could only assume was another bruise. He was shaking, she could see that clearly now—barely holding it together as he leaned against the frame. 

“Ben—”

“Everything, Rey. All of it. The cases, the clients, the way I treated you—” his voice broke on the last word, one of his hands moving to cover his eyes. “My dad dying. My mother trying to talk to me for ten fucking years and me treating her like—” 

Rey stepped forward again, this time purposefully and without caution. She held onto Ben’s face again, this time careful to not press on his wounds, and titled it until their eyes locked. 

“It doesn’t matter what you did back then,” she promised, shaking her head. “All that matters is what you do _now_ , who you are now—and who you are now is good. You’re good,” one hand fell to his chest, covering his heart. “In here. You just got a little lost.” 

Ben’s eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into her palm. He looked like he was a breath away from crumbling, falling to his knees on the hard tile and succumbing to the guilt. Rey could only hope that she was an anchor for him—that she could tether him to the reality that he lived in _now_. 

“Come on,” she urged, grabbing one of his hands and ushering him inside. “Come inside.” 

She locked the door behind them and pulled Ben toward the couch. He practically fell into it, sinking down into the cushions and throwing his head back. Rey climbed gently onto his lap, and when he picked his head up to look at her she pushed her fingers into his hair, wordlessly scraping her nails against his scalp in the way that she knew he liked. Ben let his eyes close slowly, let his mouth fall slightly open. After what felt like hours of quiet and Rey soothing him in the only way she knew how, he finally spoke. His voice was scratchy and broken, barely above a whisper. 

“It wasn’t him.” 

Rey’s movements froze, and she stared down at Ben in confusion. 

He swallowed thickly, and then, “Tim Deveroux didn’t shoot me.” 

“I thought—” Rey stammered. “Didn’t they trash his alibi? Who else—” 

“Snoke. Not him directly, but someone he hired. He put a fucking hit out on me.”

At the sound of that name, her blood went cold. Ben’s hands lay idly by his sides as Rey straddled his lap and for a long moment, they just looked at each other as she processed what he’d just revealed. Rey could feel anger and hate billowing beneath her skin. She took a deep breath through her nose, hoping to curb the way she was absolutely _seething_ , before asking, “How do you know?” 

Ben’s hands found her hips, and despite everything, Rey felt a jolt of comfort and relief at his touch. It grounded her, and she was grateful to him. For him. Even in the midst of his life turning completely on its head, he was comforting her. 

“Seeing Deveroux was like—I don’t know how to explain it,” he started. “It was like that feeling when you’re trying to remember something so badly, but it’s just out of your reach, and then hours later, days even, something clicks in your brain and there it is. The answer." Ben shook his head. "It was the look on his face; it was like someone hit me with a fucking car. I’ve never seen someone so broken.” 

She thought about that phone call—the way Tim had sounded like he was on the verge of something terrible, like he was experiencing a sadness that had to be felt to truly understand. The heaviness, the brokenness in his voice had nearly brought her to tears, and she’d never even met the man. 

“Everything started to come back after that. It didn’t happen all at once—it was like a leaky faucet that kept dripping, kept sprinkling memory after memory until there weren’t any more gaps. I remembered with perfect clarity everything that I’d done to ruin that man’s life. I remembered the loophole that I worked to beat him, to send him home with his tail between his legs and scare him off from ever trying to sue the hospital again.” 

Rey inhaled a deep, steadying breath and brought her hands to Ben’s shoulders.

“Someone approached him after the shooting and threatened him. Told him that if he didn’t take the fall, that he’d lose what little he had left. When he got arrested, he tried to get out of it—came up with that piss poor alibi that only made him look more guilty. The guy had never met Snoke before that, but the description was pretty clear.” 

“And these?” Rey thumbed lightly over the bruise on his jaw.

Ben huffed. “He wasn’t exactly happy to see me.” 

“I don’t understand—why would he—why would Snoke do this?"

“He's fucking demented. Always has been,” Ben said. “He'll never have a real shot at senior partner as long as I’m at the firm. He knows that, I know that, Palpatine definitely knows that. He saw an opportunity and he took it. If I’d been in my right mind—” he trailed off, swallowing hard. “I would’ve seen it from the beginning. Tim never would’ve had to go through this.” 

“This isn’t your fault,” Rey argued, gripping his shoulders tighter. Ben squeezed her hips tighter too, and she could feel his thumbs caressing the skin underneath her shirt. 

“It’s all my fault, Rey. Every single thing that’s happened to me, I deserve.” His head fell slowly onto the back of the couch again, tears glazing over his eyes as they stared at each other. She could feel the hurt vibrating under his skin, the crushing regret rolling off of him in waves. 

“You’re wrong,” Rey replied, shaking her head adamantly. “You’re so wrong, Ben—”

He cut her off. “The only thing I don’t deserve is you. Your kindness. I sure as hell don’t deserve your love, after everything. The way I spoke to you, Rey—the things I said—I’m a fucking monster.” 

She stared at him for a few long moments, breathing him in and letting his scent wash over her, that spicy, sharp cologne that she’d come to love because it was so _him_.

“Sit up,” she commanded. Ben obeyed, though his brows furrowed slightly in confusion. 

Rey settled herself over his lap again once his back was off the couch, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. There was no space between them anymore—their chests were flush, her black work blouse rubbing against his white button down. Their faces were centimeters apart and she could feel Ben’s breath on her skin. Were this any other moment between the two of them, she would shut her eyes and relish in the feeling of him being this close; she’d let herself drown in his kiss and sigh contentedly as his hands roamed over her body. 

But this wasn’t any other moment. This was _the_ moment that she’d been dreading for months—the moment when everything returned, when his past reared its awful, ugly head and threatened to ruin everything that he’d become. But Ben, her sweet, kind, gentle Ben, was fighting back against it with every ounce of strength that he had. She should’ve known all along that he would—he was so much stronger than she gave him credit for. 

Tears welled in Rey’s eyes as she continued to look at him. They were mirrored in his, that shiny glaze covering amber-gold. He blinked and a few fell down his cheeks. Rey let them, and offered him a small, reassuring smile that she hoped would convey all of the faith that she had in him now, the surging pride. 

“I love you,” she said resolutely, and Ben’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth to speak, but Rey shook her head. “I love you despite everything. I don’t know how it happened, but—” she huffed in disbelief. “You’re my best friend, Ben. And that part of you that did all of those terrible things—you were right. We can’t keep pretending that that part of you doesn’t exist.” 

Ben was silent and steady, not moving except to strengthen his hold on her hips. 

“It all adds up to this,” she said. “This man that I love so much.” She smiled, bigger this time, and her heart fluttered in her chest when his lips quirked into a smile of his own. It was barely there, but vibrant all the same. “You wouldn’t be you without it, and I don’t want anyone but you.” 

His eyes searched hers for a brief moment. There was awe in them, an adoration and reverence that could take her breath away if she stared too long, but Ben didn’t give her the chance.

He leaned forward and kissed her hard, his hands coming up to cup her cheeks. His tongue slid into her mouth and she moaned against his lips, pulling him somehow closer to her as he seemingly tried to inhale her, to take as much as she would give him. 

When they broke apart, they were both gasping for air, foreheads pressed together. 

“You’re everything to me, Rey,” Ben said softly, his eyes still closed. “I’m sorry I didn’t figure it out sooner.” 

Rey smirked, lifting her chin to press a soft, sweet kiss to his forehead. 

“Better late than never.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Their sex was unhurried that night—they looked into each other’s eyes as Ben moved inside of her, as he enveloped her senses and her entire world became him, _them_. He watched her face as she came on his cock, clenching around him so hard that his eyes rolled back. 

They whispered how much they loved each other as they came down, and didn’t stop saying it as they started to drift off, tangled up in each other under the covers. 

Rey wasn’t a stranger to the horrible things that Kylo Ren had done—she couldn’t deny that his penance would be a long, difficult road. She didn’t know where it would lead, nor did she know how long it would take him to get there. 

But she knew that she was going to be with him every step of the way. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


In the morning, Ben told her of his plan to return to the office and tell Palpatine everything. 

“He needs to know the truth about Snoke before I resign,” he stated as he toweled off from the shower. “And then I’m going to watch as he calls the cops on that piece of shit.” 

Rey was still in bed, having already agreed to let Ben do this on his own. She was watching him from where she was propped up against the headboard, admiring his conviction and the way his shoulders rippled when he pulled on a crisp black button down. 

He paired it with well-fitting jeans that caused her eyebrows to shoot up. When he noticed, he chuckled, well aware of how completely _un_ -casual his look usually was. 

“I’m not planning on staying long.” 

Her heart swelled at the thought. 

When he was fully dressed and ready, he walked over to the bed and sat at the edge, taking one of her hands into his. He sighed as he looked down at their interlocked fingers, and then found Rey’s eyes. His face was soft and open, and she wanted nothing more than to pull him back into bed. 

“I’ll see you in a little bit,” he said, a slight smile on his lips. “Don’t…” his eyes trailed over her form, still in her underwear and one of his t-shirts. “Don’t put any more clothes on, okay?” 

Rey laughed and leaned forward, pressing her lips against his. Ben’s hand went to her cheek as he licked the seam of her mouth, and Rey wondered for a half-second if he’d changed his mind about staying for a quickie before heading in. But he pulled away soon after, groaning as he stood up. “I’m never gonna get out of here if we keep doing that.” 

She shrugged. “No complaints on my end.” 

Ben shook his head and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. “I love you,” he said into her skin. 

Rey’s eyes slid shut. “I love you, too.” 

And then he was gone, leaving her alone in his bed. She lay back against the pillow, a stupid, giddy grin on her face as she contemplated going back to sleep. He’d likely be gone for at least a couple of hours, and they sure as hell didn’t get much sleep the night before. A nap would probably do her some good, considering what she had planned for them the rest of the day. 

A whole lot of sex, food—preferably waffles—and then more sex. Endless sex with Ben and waffles sounded like absolute bliss. 

She was on the precipice of sleep when a knock at the door jolted her awake. Rey laughed to herself, shaking her head as she stood up and walked out into the living room. 

“What, did you lock yourself out or something?” she asked as she looked around for whatever item Ben must’ve forgotten. His phone, probably—he was always leaving it in the car or on the kitchen table. She didn’t see anything upon first glance, and kept walking toward the door with an easy smile on her face. “Seriously, how did you manage to do that—”

She opened the door and the rest of her sentence died in her throat when she realized quickly that it wasn’t Ben standing on the other side. Rey’s eyes went wide. 

“Hello Rey,” Snoke sneered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 😨


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, Happy New Year everyone! 🎇✨ 🎆
> 
> Second, I updated the chapter count after literal weeks of trying to figure out how to end this specific chapter. Thank you to Sam and Ana for helping me through the lulls and shutting down terrible drafts before they could see the light of day. And thank you to Lexa for coming through in the final hour with the encouragement I needed. 💞
> 
> This chapter was a true labor of love. I really hope you like it - please let me know in the comments or on [twitter](http://twitter.com/irridesca) :)

The door hadn’t even shut behind him yet, and Ben already missed her. 

He missed her more with every step he took toward his car, one foot in front of the other as he walked toward his future. A future that he hoped would be free of malice and corruption—one that he actually wanted to be part of, that he’d actually want to _live_ instead of just survive. 

Knowing Rey was waiting for him on the other side of all of this kept his body moving, lit that fire under his feet, and pushed his shoulders back with confidence and resolve. Tim Deveroux’s eyes were there, too. Not haunting him like they used to, but fueling him instead. His voice rose in harmony with all the others that Ben had broken or ruined, but they didn’t taunt anymore. They didn’t keep him awake at night like they used to, screaming in agony and refusing to give him peace. Now, they were a chorus of fortification, singing in tandem with his wildly beating heart. 

It was a strange thing—to feel grateful for a bullet. 

And yet, that’s what he was. Grateful for that tiny piece of metal that was meant to end his life, but had instead restarted it entirely. Grateful for that split-second when the course of his journey had been rewritten, everything that he’d known for the past decade spilling out onto the blood-drenched snow. The firm. The Maserati. The standing reservation at L'Appart—all the things that seemed imperative in his life one second were worthless in the next. 

The only things that carried over were the bridges he’d thoroughly razed on his path toward complete isolation. They tasted like ash in his throat now. 

For too long, he’d wondered whether things would’ve been easier if he hadn’t been found in time. When he woke up alone in the hospital room with no recollection of how he ended up in Coruscant, let alone the ICU, and learned that his assistant had been listed as his emergency contact—not his mother or father—and she’d let the call go to voicemail. No one had come to visit him in the forty-eight hours that he’d been unconscious after they operated on him. Not one soul seemed to care if he was alive or dead. 

All of this had led him to believe that the body he’d woken up in had done far more damage than he could ever hope to repair. 

But then Rey had walked in. 

Pre-traumatic injury, he hadn’t known what to do with her, with that smile that lit up her entire face and the way she never thought twice before telling him off. He’d tried to tell himself back then that being awful to her was his own charitable way of toughening her up, getting her skin to the thickness required to survive in a place like Palpatine & Associates, but in reality, he was a prick to her because he didn’t know how to be anything else. 

He was grateful to that bullet for allowing him to see her for what she really was—selfless, beautiful, fiercely protective. It was clear to him after weeks of getting to know her that he absolutely didn’t deserve her, but he was going to do everything in his power to feel like maybe one day he could. 

Starting with quitting the firm. 

His hands were at the perfect ten-and-two position as he drove down the crowded Coruscantian street, thumbs tapping against the shiny leather through each painfully slow red light. It wasn’t like he had some master plan for what he was going to do when he got to the firm—he knew only that he wanted to confront Palpatine, and to look Snoke in the eye and tell him that he knew _everything_. He wanted to see the look on his reptilian face when he told him that he wouldn’t sleep until he was rotting behind bars and Tim Deveroux was free. 

To his credit, Ben knew exactly what kind of ammo he’d need if this went sideways. With his phone secured in his pocket and ready to record every interaction, he advanced down the carpeted hallway toward the oversized corner office, where Palpatine’s assistant blanched as he walked straight past her and pushed the double doors open. Palpatine was alone but remained cool even with the dramatic entrance, eyes traveling over Ben’s casual wardrobe. 

“It’s about time,” the old man said calmly, sitting back in his mahogany leather chair. “You know I do not like being made to wait.”

Ben’s teeth grit together at his icy tone. He’d told himself he would give Palpatine a fair shot—a chance to do the right thing, despite his usual aversion to fairness and legality, but standing face-to-face with him now as he lazily blinked and stared at Ben like a four course meal made his mercy taste like vinegar in his mouth. 

It didn’t matter. Mercy never felt as good as revenge—he understood that now. It was the path with the most resistance, scraping against his skin and heart, but leaving him stronger on the other side. It was always better than temporary justification and a lifetime of nagging guilt. 

And so, he allowed Palpatine the room to step up and be a human being for once in his miserable, frigid existence. 

“Did you know? About Snoke?” 

Palpatine sneered. “Did I know what? That you’re as weak as he pegged you to be? That my faith in you, instead of him, has been misplaced? I didn’t want to believe it, but now—” His eyes traveled over Ben’s form again, shaking his head slightly. “I fear the naysayers may have been right all along.” 

Ben was still for a moment, vindicated in a way that brought no satisfaction. Deep in his gut, he understood that this was only ever going to go one way, but that sliver of waning hope in his heart had been _stubborn_. But he wanted to offer the out, and he had done just that to no avail, so he sighed, pursed his lips, and then voiced the truth of the situation out loud. “You’re as awful as they say you are, aren’t you?” he asked, a joyless laugh underlying his words. 

“Of course not, my boy,” Palpatine drawled. “I’m much worse.” 

Slowly, Ben shook his head. He took a couple long steps toward Palaptine’s massive desk and said, “You know, I thought for a long time about making senior partner and then eventually sitting in that seat,” he jutted his chin toward Palpatine’s desk, “I thought it would be enough to make up for having no family or friends. I thought it would be enough to fill that gaping void in my chest.” He smirked, looking down at the carpet thoughtfully. “It isn’t.” 

“If you’re expecting my sympathy, you will be disappointed,” Palpatine said, rolling his eyes. “You were happy enough when you were winning. Happy enough to purchase that horribly ostentatious car and your penthouse. Where was your gaping void then, hm?” 

“You don’t understand,” Ben declared resolutely, hands shoved into his jean pockets. “And to be honest, I can’t even blame you for that. There’s no way you could understand—what it’s like...to let yourself feel love.” 

“Oh, good God.”

“To let yourself give love and receive it just as strongly in return. To feel cared for and protected by someone that you admire and worship—you,” Ben shook his head. “You will never know what that’s like. And for that, I feel sorry for you.” 

Palpatine stared at him for a long moment. He was completely still, looking him dead in the eye and refusing to break the contact. Eventually, he asked in a deadly-quiet voice, “What is that you’re doing here, Ren? Surely you haven’t burst into my office unannounced purely to insult me.”

Ben set his jaw and squared his shoulders. “I’m here to tell you three things. First, Snoke framed Tim Deveroux for shooting me. I plan to drop all the charges against him. I’m giving you a chance right now to give Snoke up—otherwise, I will make sure that the investigation into his dealings reaches the firm and I will personally see to it that this place is destroyed, brick by fucking brick.

“Second, if it wasn’t obvious, I quit. And even if you do decide to do the right thing and hand over Snoke, you will still have a battle to fight. With me. I will do everything in my power to convict every single scum-of-the-earth shitbag that you represent until no one in Coruscant even looks in your direction. You will not ruin anymore lives. You will lose. Every. Single. Time.” 

If it was possible, the old man looked even paler. His hands were balled up into fists, his nostrils flared like he was getting ready to bare his teeth. 

“You ungrateful little shit,” he spit out. 

Ben nodded. “And that brings me to my third bullet, which is that my name is Ben Solo. Not Kylo Ren, and certainly not _ungrateful little shit_ , though that does have a nice ring to it.” A cheeky smile spread on his lips. 

Palpatine stood from his chair and slammed his fists down onto his desk. “I will ruin you, boy. You and that little bitch—you’ll never see the light of day again. You will not walk into the company that I built, threaten me, and get away with it. I will finish the job that Snoke couldn’t with my bare hands if I have to—” 

“See, that’s the thing,” Ben mused lightly, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out his phone, waving it back and forth. “You actually won’t be doing any of that.” 

A growl rumbled deep in Palpatine’s chest. “Get. The fuck. Out of here.” 

“Gladly.” 

Ben turned on his heel and walked out of the office without a second glance. As he pulled the doors shut behind him, he could hear glass shattering and a thunderous crash that sounded like that old, heavy desk getting flipped over. 

He walked directly toward Snoke’s office, ready to confront him. He didn’t have an elaborate speech prepared like he had for Palpatine, but he wanted Snoke to tell him to his face that he wanted him dead. That he’d paid someone to put a bullet in his brain so that he could come out on top. 

He wanted to hear Snoke say it out loud, and knew that with enough riling, he would, and Ben would get him on the record. 

But Snoke wasn’t there. His assistant, Mitaka, looked up from his desktop as Ben approached. He was always so even-keeled—setting his folded hands atop his desk with ease and pasting on his best, most professional smile. 

“Good morning, Mr. Ren.” 

“Where is he?” 

Mitaka kinked a brow. “I’m afraid Mr. Snoke left the office for the day about forty minutes ago.”

Ben narrowed his eyes. “Where’s he going?” 

“I’m afraid I cannot divulge that information, sir. The only thing he said to me upon leaving was that he was going to tie up some loose ends.” 

Something, somewhere deep in Ben’s gut, twisted. 

“Right. Thanks.” 

With that, he left the office, pulling out his phone once he was in the lobby and free of prying eyes and ears. Rey was at the top of his recently dialed list, and he tapped her name and pressed the phone to his ear, ready to hear her voice. The line rang and rang and rang, and the automated voicemail sounded nothing like Rey’s melodic accent. 

He called again. No answer. 

Ben bit his lip as he walked hastily toward his car, shooting off a series of texts in hopes that she was in the shower or making breakfast with her earbuds in. 

_Just wanted to let you know that it’s over._

_Palpatine was breaking things by the time I left his office, so I would say it went well. Snoke wasn’t there, so I’ll have to let go of my overwhelming need to confront him face-to-face, which I can live with._

_I can’t wait to see you. It’s been less than an hour and I miss you terribly._

_Getting in the car now. Hope you listened and st—_

The text screen faded into Rey’s contact photo, a silly memory of her from days ago when they’d attempted to make chocolate chip cookies and she’d gotten flour on her nose and cheeks and even somehow on her ears. She was smiling wide, goofy and giddy as she laughed at the camera with a hand out to shoo him away from documenting her unkempt state. 

His heart soared. She was calling him back. 

“Baby,” Ben said through a breath of relief, clutching the phone in his palm. 

The silence on the other end was deafening. 

“Rey?” he asked after a few seconds, brows knitting together. 

“Not quite,” a voice sounded on the other end, and Ben could feel all of the air leave his body. If he hadn’t been sitting down already, he would’ve fallen to his knees. His eyes slid shut slowly, nostrils flaring. 

“No,” was all he could muster. 

“Yes,” Snoke hissed. “Yes, Kylo. I’m here with your little whore, and she’s turning out to be quite the obedient pet. Aren’t you, darling?” 

He could hear Rey in the background, screams muffled but still shattering. Ben’s eyes shot open and he pushed the button that started the engine, letting his body do the work of getting him home so his brain could formulate a plan. 

There was a club under the seat. Blunt, thick, heavy. 

There was a pocketknife in the glove compartment. Small, sharp, imperceptible. 

There was a gun in the safe in his closet.

He just needed to get there—he could use every weapon or none at all, he’d pull that monster off of Rey and beat him until he was unrecognizable with his bare hands if that’s what it took. There was nothing Ben wouldn’t do to protect her. 

He just needed to _get there_. 

The speed limit was nothing more than a gentle encouragement as Ben nearly pressed the gas pedal through the floor. He cut more than a few people off, speeding down the highway in a sea of honks and echoed shouts, but none of it fazed him for a second. He was in his garage minutes later, bolting out toward the elevator with the club in his hand and the car still running. 

Eternities passed between each second as he rode up to the penthouse with shaking hands—each ding of a new floor mocking him. When the doors slid open, he swallowed heavily, eyes scanning over the cracked door that led into his apartment. 

Their apartment. 

He was on high alert as he pushed the door open, and when he finally saw her, unconscious on the living room rug and bleeding from a gash on her forehead, he nearly lost it. It was like his entire world, every single breath, every single second that he’d lived up to that exact moment were all folding in on each other, swallowing him whole in a life that didn’t matter anymore—because Rey’s eyes were closed and she was bleeding and he couldn’t tell if the slight rise and fall of her chest was all in his head or if—

“Took you long enough,” a cold, distinct voice sounded from the kitchen. 

It was more difficult than Ben could’ve anticipated, to tear his gaze away from the woman he loved, bleeding and alone on his living room floor. But then his eyes found Snoke standing at his kitchen island and smiling like the cat that caught the fucking canary. 

“What did you do?” Ben bit out. 

Snoke didn’t even look at her as he laughed. “Oh, relax. She’s merely unconscious, Solo. That’s what you go by now, right? Ben Solo,” he spat out, waving his hands mockingly. “Redeemed, philanthropic, merciful,” Snoke rolled his eyes. “Save me the fucking speech, please.”

At that, Ben lunged, but Snoke didn’t budge. He merely giggled as he leaned against the island lazily. “You’re so predictable. It’s sad, really.” 

“Don’t you get it?” Ben managed, nostrils flaring. “I know what you did, or—I guess, I know what you were too much of a coward to do yourself. I know you framed Tim Deveroux. You’re done, Alistair. I’ve got enough to send you away for a long, long time.” 

Snoke nodded slowly and said, “That may be true.” Then from behind his back, he pulled out a gun with a bloodied handle, one that Ben knew instantly had been used to create that bleeding wound on Rey’s head. His stomach twisted into knots at the sight of it, feeling horrendously ill-equipped with the club nearly slipping through his sweaty palms. “But you won’t be alive to do anything about it,” Snoke sneered. “And neither will your little bitch. Drop it," he commanded, pointing the gun toward the club. 

“Leave her out of this,” Ben growled as the weapon fell from his hand and bounced onto the floor. “This is between you and me.” 

“Perhaps,” he stepped closer, cocking the gun. “But I want you to watch her die,” he looked over to Rey, kinking an eyebrow. “I want to watch you lose the thing you love most in the world. I want to take everything from you before you die thinking you _beat me_ , you pathetic waste.” 

A lump formed in Ben’s throat, one he couldn’t swallow down. His heart hammered against his chest and all thoughts of his own safety were muted by the looming threat to Rey’s life. Snoke’s gun was veering from its aim toward him and moving to Rey, who was still bleeding onto the cream-colored jute that was spread across the wood floor. 

“Please,” he whispered, voice breaking. 

“Are you begging me, Solo?” Snoke mocked, the gun still pointed at Rey but his menacing, calculating eyes slowly drifting back to Ben. 

“Yes,” Ben said immediately. “I’m begging you. Please, don’t hurt her. You can kill me—torture me, do whatever you want. But please—she doesn’t deserve this—she’s only here because I dragged her into this—”

“Oh hush, you fucking sap,” the gun suddenly swung back in his direction, causing Ben to take an instinctual step back. Snoke walked forward, snarling as he teased at the trigger. “I shouldn’t give you anything, but _God_ am I tired of your whining. So be it then, if that’s what you wish. She can wake up to you with a bullet in your heart this time, save us all the suspense of you surviving again.” 

Ben swallowed thickly. “Fine.” 

“Of course it’s fine—you, taking the path of least resistance, the easy way out so you don’t have to suffer. That’s perfectly in character for you, isn’t it? Let everyone else do all the hard work while you claim the glory. While you bask in the mountain of success you didn’t _earn._ ” 

He stood there and took it, keeping his eyes peeled to the deep, dark barrel of the pistol that was staring him down. Ben understood that this could be the last moment of his life—here, dying at the hands of his mentor in his kitchen. It didn’t matter though, because Rey would be safe, she’d be able to walk away from this and move on, to leave behind this terrible, beautiful whirlwind they’d created together and be better for it. She was everything he wasn’t—strong, capable, kind—and she would be able to get past this. There was nothing she couldn’t overcome. 

A cacophony of alarms were sounding in his head—blaring and muffling all of the other sounds in the apartment. He couldn’t hear the soles of Snoke's shoes as he stepped closer, the distance between Ben and the gun that was going to kill him growing smaller. He couldn't hear the awful, sinister laugh that sounded deep in Snoke’s chest as he squeezed the grip tighter, his knuckles going pale. 

He couldn’t hear as Rey started to come to, sighing his name as she slowly blinked her eyes open. Snoke couldn’t hear her either—it was like they were standing in the center of a vortex, staring into each other’s eyes as he closed in on him, finally pressing the cold metal against Ben’s forehead. 

Ben’s jaw clenched, eyes closing. They were screwed tight, so he didn’t notice when Rey sat up, and because the only thing he could hear now was his own heartbeat, he didn’t know that she was running toward Snoke until he heard the old man yelp in surprise. Ben’s eyes shot open just in time for the gun to be ripped away from his head only to point directly at Rey. 

It felt like time stopped right then, and he could see every possible future that would occur if he didn’t stop that gun from firing. 

Rey, bleeding from her belly and coughing with blood gushing out of her mouth, terrified and staring into his eyes until she could no longer see him. He’d hold her close to his chest as he sobbed into her neck, wishing to any God that was listening to take him instead. To give her back to the world that deserved her.

And him, never going another day without seeing her slackened face, without feeling the echo of her slowing heartbeat against his palm, without knowing the way her skin smelled as he pressed his nose against her for the last time. 

Living an entire life without her—every single day getting further away from her light—having moments and dinners and bad dreams and watching shows, all without her beside him. It felt dull and grey, like a life that would become nothing more than a throbbing ache. 

He’d come alive because of Rey. 

There was no universe in which he would let her die for it. 

So he stood, put his head down, and ran as hard as he could into the chest of his enemy, tackling him to the ground with a force he didn’t know he possessed. The gun was between them as they struggled, Snoke’s hot breath on Ben’s face as he panted, trying to come out on top. Ben’s hand enveloped the metal that was pressed against his chest, and he grit his teeth, using every bit of brute strength to overpower Snoke and turn the barrel. 

“This is the only way you can beat me, Solo,” he snarled, drips of drool falling from the corners of his mouth. “Can’t even fight like a fucking man.”

Ben’s lip curled as he finally found the grip that he needed. His finger hovered over the trigger and his nostrils flared. “You don’t deserve a fight.” 

He pulled the trigger and Snoke’s eyes went wide. His mouth hung open as he gasped for air, looking down at the mortal wound as Ben pulled himself up. The gun was hot in his hand as he pulled the magazine out and tossed it onto the tile, watching the red patch that was blooming on Snoke’s white dress shirt. The choking, gurgled gags eventually silenced, and he went completely still. 

Rey rushed to Ben's side and he pulled her into him, crushing her as far as he could manage. He held her shoulders and her head against him for dear life, gripping her as hard as he’d gripped the gun that had saved them both. 

“I’m so sorry,” Ben said into her temple, realizing only as hot, salty tears started to fall onto his lips that he was crying. Rey’s shoulders were shaking and he held her tighter, repeating his apologies over and over until he couldn’t speak anymore. 

They held each other and cried for a few long moments before Ben pulled back, cradling Rey’s face in his hands. He looked at the wound on her forehead and his jaw clenched as he assessed its severity—knowing that she would need stitches. 

  
“Ben,” Rey managed through a sob, and Ben’s face crumpled as he stroked her cheeks. “You’re okay. You’re here.” 

“I’m here, baby,” he nodded. “I’m so sorry I left. I had no idea—”

Rey shook her head emphatically, sniffling. “You couldn’t have known. It’s not your fault. I’m okay.” 

“You’re not, Rey—you’re bleeding. We have to get you to a hospital—” 

“We will,” she said before moving into his chest again. “We will. But please, just hold me for a second.” 

And he did, because he would give her anything and everything she asked of him, every single day for the rest of his life. There was nothing more precious to him than this tiny, beautiful woman in his arms, bleeding into his shirt. 

“Yes, Rey,” he breathed against her hair. “I’ll hold you forever.”   
  



	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow wow wow wow. We made it to the end, y'all. 
> 
> I do plan on writing a short epilogue sometime soon (TBD on when), but the story itself ends here. 
> 
> Thank you to Sam, Ana, Felicia, Lexa, Caitlin, and everyone else that helped me through writing this. It was quite a journey and I absolutely, positively, 100% could not have completed it without you.
> 
> To everyone reading, I am still blown away by all of the kind words and feedback you've all given me over the past few months. Your encouragement was so wonderful and kept me going even when I felt like I was completely uninspired.
> 
> If you like my writing, please check out the rest of my works! I would love to know what you think. 
> 
> Come find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/irridesca) as well :) 
> 
> Here we go!

With steely eyes, Ben watched as two paramedics hauled the body bag out of his apartment. He was sitting next to Rey with his thigh pressed against hers as the police officer questioned her, and it took everything he had to not haul Snoke’s lifeless form back inside so he could destroy it further. He wanted to burn it to a crisp and dump the ashes into a sewer after hearing what he’d done to her—how he’d terrified her and made her bleed. 

“I opened the door thinking it was Ben,” she explained, hands shaking in her lap. “He pushed me inside and threw me into the coffee table before I even realized what was happening.” There was a fleece blanket wrapped around her shoulders, but the chill didn’t seem to abate, and Ben wanted nothing more than to pull her into his chest and take her away from this nightmare. At her confession, his nostrils flared. 

“And then?” the officer asked softly, pen and notepad in hand. 

Rey took a deep breath. “And then he took out the gun and told me to sit on the couch and keep my mouth shut.” Her jaw tensed as her eyes drifted back to the living room. “He started telling me about how Ben had ruined his life and his career, and how he knew that hurting me was going to be the best way to hurt him back. He said he would kill me—shoot me in the stomach and make Ben watch as I bled out.” 

Her voice started to break and Ben could no longer stop himself from wrapping his arms around her. She practically fell sideways into him, sobbing against his chest. 

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the man said, “I know this is difficult. But we need as much detail as you can provide.” 

Rey sniffled and nodded slowly, reaching up to wipe away the spilled tears. “He did that for a while. Talking, threatening—and then he called Ben to lure him back here, and I screamed for him as loud as I could and—” she stuttered, and Ben held her tighter. “That’s when he grabbed me and pushed my head back—and then he hit me with the gun and knocked me out. That’s the last thing I remember.” 

Ben breathed in deeply through his nostrils and pressed a kiss to the top of Rey’s head, holding it there until he could feel her start to slump against him again. 

He gave his own statement when asked by the officer, not sparing any details, and then they were alone again, surrounded by splattered blood and upturned furniture. 

“Let me drive you to the ER—you heard the paramedic say that cut’s probably going to need stitches,” he said softly into Rey’s hair. “Maybe we can stay somewhere else tonight, and I’ll get someone to clean all of this up while we’re gone. How does that sound?” 

She was quiet as she nodded against his chest. 

“Alright,” Ben said, slowly starting to stand them up. “Let’s go.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


The stitches didn’t take long, but because she’d hit her head against the coffee table when she fell, the doctor advised them that Rey should stay for a few hours for observation to avoid going home with a concussion. She was sitting cross-legged on the hospital bed in leggings and one of Ben’s hoodies, and her hair was in a messy bun at the top of her head. The twelve stitches needed to sew up her wound were covered with a bandage and she looked more tired than he’d ever seen her—but she was beautiful and she was _alive_ , looking at him with those soft hazel eyes, freckles dotting the nose that had scrunched every time the doctor threaded a new hole. 

He didn’t know what to do with how much he loved her. It was heavy and sharp, the way this love had settled in his chest—the way it had felt like it was stabbing him upon seeing her unconscious and bleeding. So easily, he’d put his own life at risk in order to ensure her safety, as if it wasn’t a choice in the first place, but something inherent inside of him, a truth that had always existed, perhaps long before they’d ever met. 

It was like he’d been walking around with half a heart—half a _soul_ —unable to fully grasp love and light, until she’d walked into his hospital room and put him back together. 

“I can hear you thinking,” she remarked, a half-smile on her chapped lips. 

Ben blinked back to the present, his eyes flitting back to hers. “Sorry,” he said as he scooted closer to the bed and squeezed her hand tighter. 

Rey looked at him for a long time before saying, in a quiet, almost imperceptible voice, “I could’ve lost you today.” 

He breathed through a reassuring smile. “I’m not the one that was bleeding from my head.” 

She rolled her eyes. “It’s a _scratch_. You’re the one that bum-rushed an armed psychopath.” 

“Rey—” 

“I understand why you did it. And I love you for it—for protecting me. But I was protecting you, too—and when I was watching you struggle with him and then the gun went off and I didn’t know which direction it shot I felt like time just stopped and—”

“Hey,” Ben said, standing up and moving to sit at the edge of her bed. He reached out and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, caressing her cheek softly as he went. He searched her eyes and saw a trace of residual panic there, and he leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead before moving down to her lips. They kissed for a long minute, breathing each other in hard through their noses as Rey’s tongue slipped into his mouth and Ben’s brows knit together at the intensity of the feeling. Deep within his belly, the fire that she easily stoked was blazing and crackling. When they finally broke apart, his forehead remained against hers. Quietly, he said, “I will always protect you, sweetheart. And I’m not going anywhere.” 

And he wouldn’t, for as long as she’d have him. That was an irrevocable truth that he knew would stay with him for the rest of his days. He could see it all as he stared into her eyes, endlessly deep and golden when he looked at them this closely. Rey nodding as he bent down on one knee and held a ring out to her with a question he never thought he’d ask anyone; Rey walking down an aisle toward him, glowing in white; Rey crying as she came out of their bathroom with a pregnancy test; Rey waddling into the kitchen for her third helping of lasagna that she’d claim was for their baby more than for her; Rey holding their daughter against her chest for the first time. 

He’d love her with every cell in his body in this life, and when he died, the dust that he’d turn to would love her, too. His bones would ache for her as they lay six feet underground; his soul and spirit would search through every dimension until he could find her and love her all over again. 

Tears beaded at the corners of Rey’s eyes as she nodded, reaching up to hold Ben’s face in her hands. “Good, because I’m kind of crazy about you,” she said through a watery chuckle, and Ben’s heart squeezed in his chest. 

“You have no idea,” he whispered, nuzzling his nose against hers. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


They walked into the suite hand-in-hand. It was massive—Ben had spared no expense when he called the swankiest hotel in Coruscant and booked them a room for the night. 

He’d called a maid service after that and despite the hour, he was able to confirm a deep clean for the penthouse immediately. She’d been glued to his side the entire time they were checking in, with his thick bicep wrapped protectively around her neck. Every few seconds, he’d leaned over and kissed the top of her head gently. 

Their overnight bag was slung over Ben’s free shoulder and he broke from her embrace to walk into the bedroom. Rey could hear the sound of water running as she followed slowly, her eyes wide as she surveyed the beautiful space. 

There was a large pale leather couch sitting atop a gorgeous shag rug, and a television hanging on the opposite wall that was taller than she was. A sitting room was to her right, where more expensive-looking couches and chairs were neatly arranged under a warm glow of a modern-style light fixture that looked a little bit like a stack of Q-tips piled on top of each other.

The bedroom was no less luxurious, with a California king perfectly made up with a stark white down comforter and giant, soft-looking pillows. Their bag was open and her nightgown was sitting next to a pair of Ben’s boxers and a t-shirt. Rey followed the sound of shuffling into the bathroom where she found him unbuttoning his shirt. His shoes were off and his pants were undone but still hanging loosely on his hips.

The bathtub was running, filling up with a layer of luscious bubbles at its surface. Jasmine filled the steamy air and Rey found herself relaxing at even the thought of sinking into the hot water and letting her muscles unclench after such harrowing stress. 

Silently, Ben peeled off his shirt and pants and walked toward her. He closed the distance with determined steps and put both of his hands on Rey’s face, pushing the loose hairs that had fallen out of her bun away from her face, careful to avoid her wound. Her eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, at the warmth of his breath on her face. She blinked them open after a second and found his eyes burning into her, searching her face. 

She was on the verge of asking him what he was looking for when he leaned forward and kissed her. His hands found her waist and he pulled her into him as he traced her lips with his own, his heart beating so wildly against his chest that Rey could feel it with her own. 

He tugged at the hem of her hoodie and she raised her arms up immediately, only breaking from his mouth temporarily so he could get it over her head. She unclasped her bra with his lips still attached to hers as Ben slid her leggings over her hips and ass, bending down slightly and pulling until they were down to her ankles. 

The second she stepped out of them, he was lifting her up, holding her under her knees and shoulder blades and walking them toward the tub. He twisted the knob until the water stopped flowing and gently set her inside and when his eyes found hers once she was settled, he smiled slowly and softly. It made her warm all over, from her toes to her fingertips to her cunt, which was growing wetter by the second. 

She half-expected him to climb in in front of her, but instead he walked across the tile until she could no longer see him, but felt him gently nudge at her shoulder as he stepped behind her. Slowly, he settled in, his long legs enveloping her as he cradled her against his chest. Rey leaned back until her head found his shoulder and sighed, content. 

“Thank you for knowing that I needed this,” she breathed. 

Ben’s arms slid around her middle as he leaned down to press a wet kiss to her neck. 

“Of course.” 

  
  


“So, what now?” she asked in a small voice. 

Ben’s chest rose as he inhaled deeply through his nostrils. It was broad enough that it moved Rey forward, too. “We’ll probably have to go to the police station and give an official statement. They’ll rule it as self-defense, and I’ll hand them everything they need to drop the charges against Tim,” he explained as he traced his thumbs over the skin above her belly button. “Then I’ll do exactly what I told Palpatine I was going to do and dismantle the firm. It might take me years,” he mused, sighing. “But I’m going to do it. I’m going to be the person that stops people like him from letting evil win.” 

Rey sunk further into him, a proud smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I can’t wait to see that,” she said honestly, pulling his arms tighter around her waist. “It’s honestly terrifying how brilliant you are in a courtroom. I—” she stuttered, suddenly emotional. “I can’t wait to see you use your gift for good.” 

Ben inhaled sharply. “I want you to be there for all of it,” he said softly in her ear. “If you want to be.” 

She nodded, her smile growing. “I do.” 

One of Ben’s hands emerged and he used two fingers to gently pull her chin toward him, and when they were face-to-face, he leaned down and kissed her. 

They spent the next half-hour alternating between kissing and washing the day off of each other with gentle strokes of thick, soft washcloths, and then Ben was lifting Rey up again, stepping out onto the bathmat and reaching over to pull the plug on the drain. 

He dried her hair first with methodical squeezes of a charcoal grey towel, and then the rest of her, leaving no part of her damp except her aching center. On his knees, he dried her ankles and feet, and then he kissed his way up her legs until he stopped at her mound. Rey watched as he leaned forward and pressed his face against her, pushing his nose against her clit and nuzzling it. She hissed, her head falling back as he licked a stripe over her labia, topping it off with a sweet kiss at the top of her slit. 

She sighed as she looked down at him again, finding his eyes on her. They looked hungry, full of want and heat as they bore into her own. Emboldened by his heady gaze, she lifted her leg until it was high enough to sling over his shoulder, her eyes never leaving his. His pupils were blown and his mouth dropped open at the gesture as he reached behind her and cupped her ass, pulling her toward his mouth. 

When his lips were on her again, he moaned, the vibration sending a shockwave through Rey’s body. “Ben,” she rasped, her hand fisting into his wet hair. 

He hummed—his mouth too occupied to speak. With the new angle, he was able to open her up and give her clit the attention it deserved. He teased her at first, tongue dipping into her sopping center and dragging all the way up to her clit, never putting enough pressure on it to push her too far. But then he gave her exactly what she needed and started to draw circles over it with the tip of his tongue and reached up and traced her hole with one of his thick fingers. 

“Fuck, _fuck_ ,” she gasped as he pushed in the tip and sucked her clit between his lips at the same time, and Rey had to reach for the bathroom counter with her free hand before she toppled over at the sensation. 

He pressed his finger fully inside of her and began gently thrusting through her wetness, the sounds of pleasure echoing from his throat were indecent and intoxicating all at once, coating her insides with more arousal. He used the extra slickness to push another finger inside of her, and Rey’s head fell back again, her face screwed up in ecstasy. 

“Oh my god, Ben, I’m gonna—” she sighed, and Ben pulled her further into him, growling as he fucked her harder with his fingers and traced a spot inside of her that was making her vision white out. His tongue redoubled its effort on her clit and Rey knew this was it as she dipped her chin and relished in the sight of him, worshipping her on his knees with his face buried in her pussy. 

She loved this man and he loved her with everything he had. 

She would have never in a million years believed someone if they told her that one day, she’d be in a Presidential suite with the man formerly known as Kylo Ren going down on her and giving her a screaming, mind blowing orgasm. 

She definitely wouldn’t have believed them when they told her that they were in love, and that he’d taken her to the bed right after that and held her close as she rode his cock—that he’d turned them over and looked into her eyes as he told her that he wanted to spend the rest of his life loving her, that minutes later they came together, both crying with sweaty foreheads pressed against each other. 

And yet, here she was. Tucked into Ben’s side in this bed that wasn’t theirs but was somehow still home because he was in it, and she’d never felt safer in her entire life. 

Every doubt, every moment of insecurity and hesitation had led to this. From the minute she got the phone call from Palpatine and felt her stomach drop at the news of him being hurt to this moment now, using his chest as a pillow with his arm wrapped around her back. She’d started this journey with the intention of earning extra cash and to clear her guilty conscience, but somewhere in between had learned to trust her instincts and listen to her heart instead of her head. She’d learned that she wasn’t always in a fight for her life alone, and that she did have the capacity to be happy. 

She’d learned that she _deserved_ to feel like this—safe and loved and cared for like a precious thing, not something to be tossed aside and forgotten about. 

She squeezed him tighter around his middle and Ben chuckled before breaking the silence with a soft, “I can hear you thinking,” said into her hair. 

Rey smiled. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. It’s been a long day.” 

Looking up at him, she asked, “Do you think they’re still doing room service?” 

He fully laughed this time, and hauled her up until their faces were level. “If they aren’t, I will break into that kitchen and make you whatever you’d like.”

Rey grimaced. “I’d rather you didn’t. I’ve tasted your mac and cheese.” 

He feigned offense and opened his mouth. “Rude,” he said before turning them over and poking at her sides, earning a squeal from her as she writhed beneath him, giggling and screeching. “You must not be _that_ hungry then, I suppose.” 

Rey laughed loudly, starting to pant as he tickled her, eventually turning his touches gentle as he smiled into her mouth, breathing hard. 

“I’m just saying, maybe you could go to McDonald’s instead of choosing B&E,” Rey quipped. 

His smile grew. 

“Whatever you want, sweetheart. Whatever you want in the world, I’ll give it to you.” 

In her heart, in her head, and in her soul, she knew that he would. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much love to all of you. I hope your 2021 is bright and happy and everything you want it to be.
> 
> <3 Tay


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